


No problem

by taj_mahal



Category: Tennis RPF
Genre: Bad Decisions, Break Up, Coming Out, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Family Issues, M/M, Not Canon Compliant, Post-Break Up, Sad with a Happy Ending, Suicide Attempt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-02
Updated: 2018-08-07
Packaged: 2019-06-20 22:17:38
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,472
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15543336
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/taj_mahal/pseuds/taj_mahal
Summary: A couple of weeks ago in a TV interview, Rafa let it slip that he is gay.Things don't exactly go well for him from there on out.





	1. Not how it was supposed to go

**Author's Note:**

> I blame Mira_Mirai and the third chapter of [Perfect Rafa](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14924120/chapters/34572800) for this piece of fiction entirely. As her answer to my comment clearly stated there would be little to no drama to the coming out of Rafa in her story, I decided to write my own (of course with an overabundance of drama in it :D) All complaints go to her :P
> 
> It turned out a little dark and most characters in it are probably a little OOC but that's why it's called fiction.  
> For the purpose of this story Roger is a close friend to Rafa but not a love interest.
> 
> This was supposed to be a oneshot but somehow the story managed to get away from me and a 40 page long one shot seemed a little too much, even by my standards... :P
> 
> Unbetaed - any mistakes are my own.
> 
> Hope you like it
> 
> <>°O°<>

_So before I save someone else, I've got to save myself  
And before I blame someone else, I've got to save myself  
And before I love someone else, I've got to love myself_

   
   
Roger had been pacing the length of the linoleum floor corridor for what must have been at least an hour by now. Maybe it had been 20 minutes or maybe even less than that. He couldn’t very well say. All sense of time had suddenly vanished the moment he had been left alone in this impersonal hallway smelling of antiseptic and bleach with nothing else to do but wait and hope and pray…  
   
Nothing had gone as planned today – not even remotely. He was supposed to be at lunch right now with Rafa, who had invited him to come here for a chance to train at the academy, while the younger man was still recuperating from an injury sustained during the second week of the US Open, that had taken it’s sweet time to get any better. Instead he was here, pacing a hospital corridor waiting for any news that would hopefully help calm his mind and shed some light on what the hell had gone wrong in the first place.  
   
He had been in Porto Cristo at the appointed time to pick up the younger man but instead of Rafa his sister had been there and she had been very surprised to see him. In the wake of realizing that something was most definitely, seriously wrong, she had been the one to take him along when her inquiries had finally turned up both her brother and the fact that he had been taken to a hospital in Palma.   
   
It had been the longest and most terrifying drive Roger could remember ever to have experienced in his life and he still felt a little queasy remembering the younger woman’s driving. She had been determined to get them here as soon as humanly possible to the point of recklessness. She hadn’t said a single word on their drive to the hospital, had been solely concentrated on the road and the moment they had arrived, and she had inquired after her brother, she had been whisked away by a nurse to talk to a doctor and Roger had been left behind.  
   
He had tried to get the nurse to talk to him, which had already been a problem due to the language barrier and had been complicated further by the fact that she insisted she wasn’t allowed to tell him anything. No amount of charm or irritation had been able to sway her and in the end he had resorted to pacing the floor, waiting for Rafa’s sister to reappear. She had left him here to go talk to the doctor and he hadn’t been allowed to follow. Maribel was family after all, she had every right and reason to talk to the doctor and she would have answers… if she ever showed up again.  
   
More minutes ticked by ever so slowly like they were being dragged through molasses and Roger was sure he would go crazy if this went on for much longer. He was about to try and talk to the young woman at the nurses’ station again, maybe try a different approach in convincing her to give him at least a tiny bit of information on how Rafa was doing, when Maribel reappeared.  
   
She seemed deeply lost in thought as she walked down the corridor at a measured pace, walking towards him without really seeing him. Her facial expression didn’t betray much of any emotion. It had that impenetrable quality Roger had seen on her brother so many times before whenever they had competed against one another. In that moment the family resemblance was undeniable… She was pale but composed and there was no sign whatsoever that she had cried… He took that as a good sign.  
   
Stepping up to her, blocking her path and entering her personal space shook her out of the stupor that had her walking along like she was in a trance. It seemed she hadn’t noticed him, had almost forgotten he had come along and her first instinct made her shy away from him as he reminded her of his presence so forcefully. It took only seconds for her to regain her composure though and finally give him the answers he had been so desperately waiting for.  
   
„Maribel, thank god… It feels like I’ve been waiting for forever… They wouldn't talk to me... How is he?“  
   
„Alive. He was lucky. Very, very lucky. If they had gotten to him even a little later…”  
   
“What exactly happened? Do they know?”  
   
If at all possible the expression on the younger woman’s face turned even more withdrawn and for a second there it looked like she wouldn’t answer him. Roger could practically watch as an inner battle raged in her – the protection of her brother’s privacy against the feeling of gratitude. After all it had been Roger’s arrival at the house that had been the sole reason she had become aware of the fact something was wrong with her brother in the first place. In the end gratitude won over prudence.  
   
“They’re not 100 percent sure but it looks like an overdose of prescription medication. He was barely breathing when they found him… They gave him a set of other drugs to try and counteract the effects of the medication and he’s getting oxygen to help with his breathing. He’s still unconscious and they said it might take a while before he wakes up…”  
   
Roger wasn’t sure what he had expected but this wasn’t it. He had believed that maybe something had been wrong aboard the yacht, they had quickly found out Rafa still had to be on, that had caused some sort of injury, something that would easily heal. An overdose on medication sounded like… quite frankly it sounded like a joke. But that was what Maribel had said and there were only to viable scenarios here. Either it had been an accident – which didn’t sound like something that would ever happen to Rafa… Or it had been intentional – which was equally as bad, if not worse.  
   
Roger needed a moment to do something other than stare and gape at Maribel who’s gaze had never left his face the entire time. He needed to make sense of the jumbled mess that were his thoughts. But it was anything but easy. This was too enormous to wrap his head around just like that. The one thing he could come up with wasn’t exactly an eloquent thing to say but he was sure it would help both of them.  
   
“We… we should sit…”  
   
Maribel nodded – a small, defeated gesture and then she turned to lead the way. Roger assumed she had been told to wait until further notice anyway. Walking down the corridor in silence, Roger almost stumbled over his own feet trying to process what he had just heard. He still had a very hard time believing any of this was actually reality. And the fact that it hadn't been an injury or an accident but something that Rafa had brought upon himself – maybe even intentionally – simply didn't want to be comprehended. They reached the waiting area and Roger settled himself in one of the uncomfortable chairs, looking up at the younger woman, who had yet to overcome her own restlessness and sit down, as a new question popped up in his mind.  
   
“Did you see him?”  
   
“No, not yet. I talked to his doctor. They’re getting him settled right now. I can go see him in a little while. They told me to wait. A nurse will come and get me…”  
   
Roger watched as Maribel started walking up and down the room, pacing, trying to find some way to release the nervous energy her worry and anxiousness about her brother's condition had caused. He would have liked for her to sit down. Her erratic movements were making him nervous in turn. But he understood why she did it. She needed some valve, some way to release all of the emotions still swirling inside. It also seemed to help her gather her thoughts because after about a minute of going back and forth, she stopped in front of him, a soft sigh escaping her lips before she continued to speak with him.  
   
“I knew he was hurting physically, which is why he took the pills with him in the first place. But other than that… I know it was hard on him after… well what happened with that TV interview. But I was sure he was fine. He said he was fine…”  
   
“He said the same thing to me. Insisted on it actually.”  
   
“Yeah, he’s good at that… Hiding the pain away and putting on a smile despite it all… He doesn’t usually do it with me though. He knows he doesn’t have to. There’s no need to pretend… But he did. And I was willing to believe it…”  
   
“Don’t blame yourself. You’re not the only one he fooled into believing he was fine…”  
   
“Well he wasn’t fine! But we failed to see that! Or maybe we didn’t want to see…”  
   
She had sounded utterly defeated telling him that, not only had Rafa managed to lie to her, but had also done it so perfectly well, she never even had so much as suspected that there was something seriously wrong with him. Roger's display of sympathy and understanding however, turned that defeat into anger – not at him, not at Rafa but very much directed at herself. Roger tried to defuse the situation at least a little bit, trying to get her to stay focused on the facts at hand instead.

„What now?“  
   
„They want to keep him in ICU until his vital signs are back under control. Those drugs messed with his breathing, blood pressure and above all liver and kidney function. It might take a day or so depending on how well the counteracting medication works...“  
   
„But he'll be fine?“  
   
„I wouldn't know about fine. But he'll live through it.”  
   
Actually saying it out loud, admitting to the fact that Rafa had managed to get himself into that much trouble it could very well have ended in disaster, seemed to break the last of her resilience. She sighed deeply and finally, mercifully she sat down on one of the uncomfortable plastic chairs, practically dropping down on it, all the strength and anxious energy that had held her up to this point dissipating as the adrenaline that had fueled her washed away. She burried her head in her hands, her voice muffled because of it.  
   
“I still don't understand how this could happen, how he could do this...“  
   
“You don’t even know what happened yet.”  
   
“Of course I know what happened. We both do.”

Maribel had sat up straight and was looking at him, the expression on her face a mixture of astonishment and exasperation. The way she looked at him didn't need any additional words. It was clear to see that she didn't believe him and that she was sure he didn't believe his own lies either. Her tone of voice was irritate, his attempt to calm and soothe her not in the least bit appreciated.  
   
“It might have been an accident… You did say he was hurting…”  
   
“Not enough to be unable to count to two instead of ten! Or to not know how to read a damn label! He doesn’t take this kind of medication for the first time in his life. He knows not to mix this stuff up and he knows the exact dosages to take! This wasn’t an accident… This was… He did this on purpose.”  
   
She had said it now, had put that option on the table and as hard as Roger had tried to ignore the facts, there was no way to fool himself any longer. Maribel was right. This had been no accident. There was no chance in hell Rafa had been that incapacitated by his injury, that careless and inattentive. It left only one viable other explanation and as awful as that was, that was the truth. Unlike Maribel, Roger didn't have it within himself to pass any blame on the younger man. Rafa hadn't just gotten up one day and decided it was a good idea to overdose on prescription medication. There had been circumstances leading up to this and unfortunately everybody around the younger man had known. They had all known and nobody had intervened. Roger was no exception. It had only been two days ago he had been given a chance to help or at least inquire after the younger man's well being. He hadn't though... and here they were.  
   
„Even if he did, this isn't his fault.”  
   
“Whose then?! He took the pills!”  
   
“It's ours. You, me, his parents, his family, his friends, Carlos and the rest of his team... Above all his damn boyfriend! He needed us. He needed us to support him, needed us to understand and accept and be helpful. But we didn't do any of that...“  
   
„Of course we did!“  
   
There was no vehemence to her words and that told Roger everything he needed to know. She was fooling herself now, trying to convince herself that she had done everything in her power to make sure her brother was okay. But seeing her face fall as her thoughts went on, Roger knew she wasn't as sure of herself as she pretended to be. He himself had enough guilt to pass around for the two of them. A lot of things had let up to this very moment in time – and neither one of them were exactly innocent in it. 

„Did we? Really? I knew something was off when he called me Friday night. I get the feeling he wanted to talk to me about what happened and how hard it’s all been. But I didn’t know how to react to that. It’s not something he would usually talk to me about or ever has before for that matter. But instead of accepting that somebody I deem a friend needed my help and stepping up to the responsibility, I couldn't end the conversation and tell him to wait for me and talk to me on my terms fast enough... And you weren't overly eager to spend time with him either. Weren’t you supposed to accompany him on that little seaside trip with the yacht?“  
   
„I couldn't get away!“  
   
She had actually raised her voice at him now, defending her actions earlier this weekend and Roger raised both hands in defeat. He certainly didn't mean her any harm or felt any need to engage in a discussion with her on who of them had failed Rafa the most. As they had already established – there was enough blame to pass around. But he certainly wouldn’t judge or blame the younger woman for her decisions. Not when he had made mistakes himself. He had no right to do that. The change in topic however didn't manage to make Maribel feel any better.  
   
„What about everyone else? Where are they? Where are your parents?“  
   
„I didn't call them yet. I don't know how to tell them...“  
   
„Why?“  
   
The younger woman took her time formulating an answer. Roger expected her to say that it was difficult, that the right words wouldn’t come to her. Her actual reaction managed to catch him completely off guard. She was suddenly on her feet again, practically exploding in a flash of uncontrolled emotion she had been holding back and bottling up inside of her until now. The look in her eyes was one of pure helplessness.  
   
„Because you are right, damn it! We failed him... Meri left, Mateo left, our parents were disappointed in him... Carlos and Maymo both took time off from traveling with him... We all failed him... How many times has he told everyone and anyone willing to listen that he is only ever as strong as the support that is given to him by the people he trusts...But we didn't do that. We didn't support him, we didn't understand, we didn't help! And now he saw no other way out...“  
   
„I refuse to believe that. It wasn't a solution or a way out. It was a rash reaction, a spur of the moment thing, a desperate plea for help!“  
   
She shook her head vehemently and for the first time since they had been informed Rafa was at the hospital, for the first time since they had come here and she had told him what had happened, her composure was waning. Tears were brimming in her eyes that she simply refused to let fall. As much as she tried to keep the tears at bay and her facial expression lax, she couldn't keep the trembling from her voice, betraying her emotion. Roger gave her a smile in response – sad but reassuring.

„He planned this. He made sure nobody found him...“  
   
„But we did. Call it luck, call it divine intervention, call it whatever you want. But the one thing we should take from this is that it's our second chance. Our wake up call. We can do right by him now. And we're lucky to get the chance...“  
 


	2. One wrong move

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everybody - thanks to all of you for reading and reviewing.  
> You make me happy!
> 
> Here's today's update.  
> As I said - the characters are probably OOC (and pretty much being a**holes)  
> I don't claim anyone Rafa knows and trust would ever react like that in RL.  
> But it works for the story.
> 
> Unbetaed yet again - enjoy anyway :)
> 
> <>°O°<>

*New York - seven weeks earlier*  
   
It had been an idiotic decision to agree in the first place. But here he was, on one of those insipid American late night talk shows, having agreed to an interview he knew he didn't want to be a part of and feeling uncomfortable ever since he had come here. It didn't help that the stupid program was broadcasted live, making it even harder on him and more aware of every last mistake that he made – both in posture and language. 

It hadn't been exactly unpleasant so far though. A lot of standard questions about things he liked and disliked that he had answered what felt like a million times before. Some cheekiness, some anecdotes. All in all he felt pretty sure of himself by now. Which was why what happened next caught him so completely off guard he simply didn't know how to react. The female host had said something about a picture and seconds later it had appeared on a screen behind him for all the world to see.   
   
The picture had been taken from afar – probably by some prying paparazzi and it had to have been taken during the brief time off in between Wimbledon and the American stint. It showed him in a very intimate embrace with another guy on his yacht and there was no chance in hell that anyone would believe him it had just been a bit of goofing around between friends… Being confronted with a picture that was so clearly not meant for prying eyes left his brain completely void of even so much as one coherent thought. 

It wasn't like there had never been close calls before but those had usually been of a variety that he could either deflect or somehow talk his way out of. Or simply ignore. This however, this was difficult. Had it been any other sort of program, he could have simply refused to answer the question and ask them to leave this part out. It wouldn't exactly have been polite but his privacy would have been protected. He couldn’t lie his way out of this one though – not on a live show, not with something that was so blatantly obvious.

It was a split second decision. The picture was there, he needed to give some sort of answer to the cheeky host and he couldn't very well wait much longer with it. His silence was already going on too long, the host was looking a little nervous and his mind still hadn't come up with a convincing lie to tell. That left only one thing to say – the truth.   
   
“Looks kind of intimate…”  
   
“It is. He and I we are… together.”

In the silence that followed one could have heard a pin drop. Had he been a little less self occupied and a lot more aware of his surroundings, Rafa probably would have smiled at the fact that he had managed to stun a whole studio full of people into silence. He did smile of course – a fake, tense smile and the awkward silence stretched on for a long moment as the host of the show simply stared at him, obviously needing a moment to find her composure. Had it not been a live broadcast, this would have been the perfect opportunity to ask for a break and use that as a chance to get away. But it wasn't and sure enough the woman found both her professionalism and a couple more probing questions quite quickly.   
   
“What about the woman who travels with you. Francisca?”  
   
„She is my friend.“  
   
„But not your girlfriend?“  
   
„No.“  
   
Rafa kept his answers short and his tone of voice clipped. He knew he sounded detached, like he was talking about somebody else's life being put under the microscope here. It was the only viable way to deal with the situation. Having his emotions win the better of him, he wasn't sure what he would have done. The possibilities ranged from yelling at the host for invading his privacy like this to simply getting up and leaving. This way he ensured to stay and get through this... which would have been a lot easier had the woman finally stopped asking questions.

“So the guy in the picture would be you partner then? Your boyfriend?”  
   
“Yes.”  
   
“Which means you are… gay?”  
   
“Yes.”

He had never admitted it to anyone. Not his family, not his friends, not even as a joke or as a careful suggestion of a possibility to get a first glimpse at a reaction. Actually doing it now felt kind of strange to him – 15 years of lying both to the people around him and to himself didn't just suddenly melt away and that was what made it so strange to openly admit to the facts of his sexual preferences. The man in the picture – his boyfriend Mateo – he knew of course, but even with him it was sort of an unspoken secret... It was a mutual agreement not to let anyone else in on the fact that they were together. Mateo had wanted it that way and it had presented Rafa with the chance to do as he pleased without actually having to reveal any truths to anyone.   
   
“Did anyone know?”  
   
“I did. So does my friend in the picture.”  
   
„What about your family? Your other friends? Your team? Do any of them know?“  
   
„They know now.“  
   
It sounded simple saying it like that, but Rafa knew for a fact that it wouldn't be. This whole situation presenting itself to him felt surreal. Like a dream he was about to wake up from any moment now, safe and happy that nothing bad had happened. He was in a bubble right now, away from the rest of the world, not yet forced to deal with the inevitable fallout that would come from this. He would have to eventually though. There was no way around it – not anymore. 

The rest of the TV interview had gone by in a blur and he had no idea what he had said in the aftermath of being confronted with the picture and admitting to the simply but overwhelming fact that he was in love with another man and that was the way he preferred it. The second the broadcast ended, he knew all too well that the repercussions of what he had allowed himself to be forced into revealing would come crashing down on him. It started pretty much the second he left the studio.    
And none of the people that were important to him in his life did in any way react as he had expected… or hoped for.  
   
#*#  
   
The boyfriend  
   
By the time Rafa had been out of the studio and back in the car that would take him back to his hotel there were six missed calls waiting for him on his cell phone. All of them from the same number. In between the studio and his hotel room Mateo called him two more times but Rafa decided to ignore him until he was safely back in the confines of his room. The conversation they would have was not one he wanted to engage in while sitting in a car with another person up front listening in on what they would have to say.   
   
It was close to midnight when Rafa finally closed the door to his room behind him, which meant it had to be around six in the morning back home. Way too early for Mateo to be up. But obviously he had decided to catch a glimpse of his boyfriend or had already been up for some other reason. Either way, Rafa was sure that he knew. True enough, Mateo called yet again seconds after Rafa was back in his room and he didn't even bother to come up with so much as a word of greeting when Rafa answered the phone now, proceeding to yell at him instead pretty much right away.   
   
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?!”  
   
“Mateo, please, calm down.”  
   
“Don’t you tell me to calm down! I have family, friends, a job… You jeopardized all that!”  
   
It was a strange and hurtful accusation and it made little to no sense. Nothing Rafa had said in that interview had in any way entailed the fact that Mateo was a part of his life. He hadn't revealed his name, hadn't given any details about their relationship and of course he wouldn't have done that anyway. The only thing pointing to Mateo was the picture but as he was the one who had been standing with the back to the photographer who had taken it – clearly not the center of interest to the one taking the picture – Rafa saw no harm in that either. He only knew it was Mateo because he remembered the moment... and they had been alone at that particular moment in time. There was no need for his boyfriend to get so worked up over this and their certainly was no reason to be so harsh about the whole disastrous matter.   
   
“How? I didn’t do anything!”  
   
“You came out! On a nationwide American TV show!”  
   
“I didn’t know what else to do. They had the picture of us…”  
   
He wasn't building a very strong case for himself, Rafa was aware of that. But he didn't know how else to explaining what had happened. It would have all been so much better if the interview hadn't been a live broadcast. He wouldn't have needed to come up with an answer right on the spot, he could have simply refrained from answering the question, he could have taken his time and come up with an eloquent little lie... It seemed that was exactly what Mateo had expected him to do and he shared his opinion rather loudly, anger and impatience dripping from his voice. 

“You could have lied!”  
   
“I have been doing that my entire life…”  
   
“And all of a sudden it was too much?! All of a sudden you couldn’t do it anymore? And you just decided to be honest no matter what?! What about what I wanted or needed?! You did this for the both of us without ever asking or even thinking about how it would affect me!”  
   
“Nobody knows it was you in that picture!”  
   
“I know!”

It wasn't really a point of argument. Just because he and Mateo knew didn't mean anyone else would be suspicious. There was no threat to the other man, no adverse reaction to be expected. Maybe a couple of people would ask him, maybe others would insinuate and make stupid jokes. But Rafa simply refused to admit that his revelation had in any way hurt Mateo. The only person he had probably hurt today was himself. And he felt he deserved a little more understanding and compassion from the man he was with.   
   
“What exactly is it you expect of me? I can’t take it back now…”  
   
“No. You can’t. You didn’t think! I don’t care if you decide to ruin your life and career but you don’t get to do the same to me. You had no right!”  
   
“I’m sorry, okay? I had to react in some way. I couldn’t just sit there not saying anything. I made a mistake…”  
   
“Yes, that you did. Actually that’s an understatement. You went ahead and made us public and I had to find out from a damn news report! How am I supposed to trust you like this?”  
   
The question of trust left Rafa speechless for the longest of moments. He tried hard to put himself in Mateo's position, tried to reevaluate what he had done tonight. It wasn't like he didn't understand the other man's anger. They had always been on the same page when it came to keeping their relationship a secret. But Rafa hadn't jeopardized that secrecy... at least that was what he felt like. He did however understand that Mateo was angry. Waking up to a news report announcing your own boyfriend had told the world he was gay without ever having spoken about this before and clearly having agreed on not to reveal that particular fact to anyone, had to have hit the other man hard. But this wasn't affecting Mateo and that was why his whole rant about not being able to trust Rafa anymore seemed kind of pointless... and very far fetched. 

“Just like before!”  
   
“But it’s not like before! You changed everything and you didn’t consider me in all that even for a second. I can’t do this…”  
   
Defeat sounded in the other man's voice at the last part of his statement and Rafa could hear him take a deep, shuddering breath at the other end of the line. Realization finally dawned on him what this whole phone call was about, what the sole reason for Mateo’s rant and righteous anger was. He had reacted this emotionally on purpose – not because he felt it, though Rafa was sure there was some truth to Mateo's feelings, but to make it easier on the both of them... To soften the blow. His own voice sounded hollow and disembodied to him when he put his devastating suspicion into words.   
   
“Are you… are you breaking up with me?”  
   
“I just can’t, okay? Not with all that scrutiny. Not with everyone around me who knows we are close asking nosy questions. I need to be alone, I need time to digest all this. I… I can't be with you. Not like this.“  
   
For the first time since they had started this conversation Mateo was actually calm and sounded both sincere and sympathetic. This hurt him too but there was no denying the fact that the other man was most definitely determined. In his mind doing this seemed justified. Rafa couldn't have disagreed more. But it seemed he got no say in all this, just like Mateo had gotten no say in his decision to answer the question at that interview and reveal how he truly felt. Mateo wasn’t completely wrong or out of line after all. Rafa had made a split second decision without considering the other man’s opinion or feelings. Maybe he had broken his trust… Maybe he deserved being punished for it. One way or another, convincing Mateo of doing something he didn't want to do, was not something Rafa had ever done. And he certainly wouldn't start now... even if it meant to lose the other man. If that was what Mateo wanted, he needed to accept that. And that he did.   
   
„Sure. Okay. No problem.“  
   
#*#  
   
the coach  
   
Rafa hadn't been able to sleep that night. After he and Mateo had ended their call, effectively ending their relationship the moment they ended the conversation, he had felt too worked up to go to bed. It wasn't that he wasn't tired. He felt exhausted both physically and emotionally. But his swirling thoughts won the better of him every time he closed his eyes and sleep simply wouldn't come. It hadn't been until the early morning hours – around 4 am – when exhaustion had finally won the better of him.

A sharp knock on his hotel room door woke him up. A look on the bedside clock told him it was a couple of minutes to eight. He had barely slept four hours and whoever was at the door was very impatient – there was more and even louder knocking now. Rafa tried his hardest to disentangle himself from his blanket, finally managed to get up and made his way to the door, tired, bleary eyed and barely able to put one foot in front of the other. When he opened the door, hos coach was out there. He didn't so much as say 'good morning' before brushing past him, stepping inside the room. Rafa closed the door behind him, letting himself rest against his with his back, watching his coach in the process. Carlos had walked a few paces before turning back around to him, facial expression stern. There was no doubt whatsoever that the older man was most definitely furious. The onslaught of accusations and angry words followed just a couple of seconds later.   
   
“What the hell did you do?! You were supposed to answer a couple of simple questions. And you go ahead and announce to the world you have a boyfriend?! And why the hell do I get to find out from somebody else? You should have told me about this!”  
   
Rafa had barely been able to follow Carlos quick succession of angry reproachful words that he had flung his way, hung up on the fact that Carlos was talking about Rafa having a boyfriend. Just that he didn’t have a boyfriend anymore. Because Mateo had broken up with him… But Carlos wasn’t interested in hearing about that. It seemed he was very much interested in himself and only himself. The last thing Rafa wanted was to have this conversation – this judgmental conversation in which he was forced to defend himself for something that was completely normal for thousands of other men all over the world – but just like last night he couldn't very well just stand there and say nothing.   
   
“It’s not like I planned on doing this. It was… I didn’t know what else to say… And it was already past midnight when I came back here. What did you expect me to do? Call you and wake you up?”  
   
“That would have been better than having some random journalist ask me questions about things I didn’t even have any idea about… It’s not about last night, though. You know that! I have known you going on what now? 15 years? And you never once said a word about this.”

Rafa raised an eyebrow at Carlos and his sudden interest to delve into the depths of Rafa's personal life. Carlos was a long trusted friend and a very good coach but none of that actually granted him any right or reason to know every last detail of what Rafa did with his free time or who he spend it with. Quite frankly Carlos had never shown any interest whatsoever in Rafa's love life before. Just because he had been talking about it openly in one single TV interview now, didn't give Carlos any incentive to be informed all of a sudden. However the older man seemed to see things differently.   
   
“You didn’t ask.”  
   
“That’s your excuse? I didn’t ask if you were… And that makes it okay for you to lie to me?!”  
   
“I never lied.”  
   
It was a simple enough answer and it took all the composure and inner strength Rafa had at his disposal – after having his heart broken not eight hours ago and functioning on way too little sleep – not to yell at the older man or call him out on the very blatant fact that Carlos hadn't even been able to use the word 'gay' around him. As much as Carlos was trying to make this about truth and trust, that wasn't the reason for his anger. But he stubbornly insisted on it... because it was better than to simply admit to the fact that he had a problem with the younger man's sexual preferences. 

“No. You simply chose to hide an important fact of your life from me. That is way better.”  
   
“This is none of your business.”  
   
“It is when people ask me about it. It affects me too!”  
   
It was the second time within less than 10 hours that people he trusted, people he had been sure would be supportive and understanding, were yelling at him for no apparent reason. Rafa didn't deserve this, he was sure he didn't and right now he couldn't deal with any of this. The fact that he was single, that his relationship had broken apart because of one tiny mistake he had made, the lack of sleep and the fact that his coach and long time friend turned out to be a homophobic ass, it all still had to sink in. Right now Rafa needed to sit. He needed a moment to himself, just a fraction of a moment to be weak and sad and devastated at everything that had happened since last night and he really could have cared less if Carlos watched. 

He managed to push himself off and away from the door, more stumbled than walked the few paces over to the couch dominating the main room and let himself drop down on it. Taking a deep breath he closed his eyes, let his head hang low and buried it in his hands, effectively blocking everything around him out for just a moment. It didn't last for long. He could hear careful footsteps as Carlos approached him, finally some sympathy in his voice since the first time he had shown up here today, giving Rafa both the courage and the energy to look up at the older man.   
   
“Are you okay. You look pale.”  
   
“I didn’t sleep well.”  
   
“No surprise there.”  
   
The sarcasm in the older man’s voice destroyed the little moment of friendliness, Rafa had thought they shared, as soon as the words were out of his mouth. It seemed what little concern Carlos actually felt for him had been exhausted with his little display of sympathy. The older man however looked preoccupied and uncomfortable himself. Not as devastated and saddened and exhausted as Rafa himself knew he both looked and felt, but definitely not good. Maybe he shouldn't have care but he simply didn't have it within himself to ignore the older man's display of negative emotion, extending a courtesy Carlos hadn't really shown him. In the aftermath he wished he hadn't done it.   
   
“You seem troubled, Carlos.”  
   
„I… I don’t know how to handle this. I think I need some time to wrap my hand around this.“  
   
“What exactly is that supposed to mean?”

“I’ll take some time off once we’re done here. I guess that’s what it means. You don’t need me for the Asian tournaments anyway. You have Francisc for that.”

It hadn't even been a question or a suggestion, no topic open for discussion. Carlos had simply relayed his decision to Rafa and he actually had the audacity to smile at him, like that was making matter somehow better. The fact that Carlos was right about the facts, that he didn't usually travel with Rafa for the Asian tournaments anyway, did little to nothing to ease the blow. Of course he could have engaged in a discussion with the older man – fighting, yelling, insisting on him being less of a damn coward and simply deal with this new reality. But he was too heartbroken, to exhausted and simply couldn't bring himself to care enough to actually do any of that. Instead he simply shrugged, hoping it meant Carlos would go away and leave him alone.   
   
„Sure. Okay. No problem.“  
   
#*#  
   
the 'girlfriend'  
   
Carlos had left as Rafa had hoped but of course he hadn't been able to go back to sleep after the encounter with his coach. He knew he needed more rest, needed a chance to escape the misery that were his waking hours right now but he simply couldn't calm down enough to find it within himself to actually fall asleep again. He had settled in bed instead, the TV on in a low volume without actually looking at it and deciding to ignore every last responsibility today. He had practice and he knew that but nothing short of the hotel catching fire could get him out of his room today. 

Unfortunately that didn't stop other people from coming to see him – people who even had a key card to his room and could come in unannounced... It was his own fault though. Somehow the very obvious fact that while he had not talked about Mateo during the interview, he had talked about Francisca quite bluntly, had slipped Rafa’s mind in the aftermath of his revelation. Francisca was a special case when it came to all his. She didn’t exactly know… but he was sure she had always suspected. 

Now that she did know, it was almost surprising it took her half the day before she sought him out and came to confront him. Maybe she hadn't found out earlier. And as Rafa had somehow managed to simply forget about her, too preoccupied with his own misery, he hadn't told her about the interview and warned her about the onslaught of questions from press and fans that would most definitely be thrown at her. It had certainly happened already, which was why she came to him in the first place, bursting into his room unannounced. He had relocated from the bed to the couch and almost jumped when she entered the room. Just as with Carlos it was blatantly obvious she was angry and just as with Carlos she didn't bother with a greeting or any other pleasantries. Rafa managed to at least sit up properly on the couch before she had reached him, venting her fury at him.   
   
“You! You have a lot of nerve just sitting here all comfortable and relaxed like nothing has happened. I always knew something was off… But you never once deemed it necessary to actually tell me. All those excuses, all those little awkward moments whenever I wanted intimacy, all those little lies… I should have known better. It’s bad enough as it is. But blindsiding me like this… Why the hell would you do that? What did I ever do to you? I have always been patient and understanding. I never pressured you into anything you didn’t want. I deserved better than this!”  
   
“You did. I know. I’m sorry for the way it happened…”

Francisca was the first visitor today he actually felt it was necessary and prudent to apologize to. She was right after all – she did deserve better than this. She had deserved to be informed, to know what would be thrown her way at the revelation Rafa had made last night. But he hadn't even realized the necessity for it until now and it was way too late to do anything about it anymore. The damage was done, Francisca was more than just a little irritated and she wasn't even listening to his apology anyway, keeping on scolding him for his actions like he hadn't said anything in response at all to her.   
   
“The girl for show. The smoke screen. The display for the media so that no nosy questions arise. I’m a joke to the whole wide world and you made me that!”  
   
“I didn’t mean to…”  
   
“I know you didn’t mean to! You never mean to! But you did it anyway!”  
   
She was yelling now, raising her voice in favor of the harsh cynicism that had been dripping from her voice before. It wasn't any better and it seemed no matter what Rafa had to say, what he tried to come up with to make her see he hadn't done this to hurt her but had very much managed to hurt himself in the process just the same, she simply didn't want to hear it. She hadn't come here to hear his apology or to even give him a chance to explain. She had come here to speak her mind and her mind was made up – especially about him – no matter how hard he tried to make her see he had been forced into this situation just as much as she had, making one single bad judgment call in the process. 

“It was one mistake. One situation I had no control over and I made a wrong decision… I’m sorry.”  
   
“You’re only sorry you’re losing a friend over this!”  
   
“What do you mean?”

Dread had settled in his stomach at her words and there was no real reason to ask for clarification other than to punish himself some more for the mistake he had made last night. He knew what Francisca meant to tell him. She had been quite blunt and obvious in her choice of words. Asking her about it only seemed to validate her believe she had every right to vent her anger and direct the brunt of it at him.   
   
“I mean I won’t be staying here, giving you more chances to make me look like an idiot! I booked a flight. I’ll be going home tomorrow.”  
   
“Okay… Will you… will you call when you’re back. Let me know you’re home safely?”  
   
“No.”  
   
“Meri…”  
   
Pleading with her, calling her by her nickname in the process, did not have the desired effect. Actually it was the complete opposite. Instead of soothing her, making her remember that they were friends way more than they ever had been lovers or a simple alibi for Rafa to not have to answer any nosy questions about his love life, it managed to enrage her even further. Probably because she had already given up on this friendship – years and years of it simply discarded and tossed aside over one wrong decision made. 

“Don’t call me that! And don’t act like you’re the victim here! This is your mistake, you’re wrongdoing! And I can’t be a friend to you like this. Not anymore. You betrayed my trust and you humiliated me for millions of people to know and see… How could I ever be your friend again after that?”  
   
Rafa had no answer to that. It was the same question Mateo had asked not even half a day ago and telling him that nothing had changed had royally backfired. Rafa new better than to try the same approach with Francisca. It seemed she had little interest in hearing an answer from him anyhow. It hadn't been a question that needed answering and she was already on her way to the hotel room door, ready to leave. 

She stopped, with her hand already on the handle of the door, and turned to face him once more. Her expression was stony, unforgiving and her tone of voice so cold, it was hard not to physically recoil. What she had to tell him was just as devastating. His mumbled response never reached her though. She had already left, throwing the door closed forcefully in the process, leaving him standing there – utterly alone.   
   
„I don't want to see you again. Not ever.“  
   
„Sure. Okay. No problem.“


	3. From bad to worse

#*#  
   
the fans and media  
   
The next couple of days as the second week of the US Open started and progressed was something akin to running the gauntlet. There had been no chance to hide himself away for much more but that one day after the interview. There were responsibilities to attend to, matches to be played and of course there were people – hundreds and hundreds of people all of them having an opinion and a lot of them seemingly unable to simply keep those opinions to themselves. 

Rafa hadn’t even dared to go even anywhere near any social networking sides in the days that followed. The onslaught of attention… and of opinions just too much to deal with. But he couldn't very well get away from the people attending the tournament. Of course there had been shows of support as well but he felt very much like the majority of reactions were negative – some of them viciously so.

Attendance at the matches he played suddenly seemed a lot less, the enthusiasm barely there anymore, the fan reactions a lot more clipped and subdued. And that was the better part of reactions. There had been the occasional comment – either made to him in passing while on the tournament ground or even during changeovers because it seemed some people had no impulse control whatsoever. Of course he tried to ignore it, tried to focus and not pay any attention to the distractions of the people around but if somebody proceeded to yell insults at him during changeovers no amount of focus could stop him from listening. And it hurt – each and every time. 

The hardest blow had come in the form of a planned charity event at a local tennis school that had simply been canceled without any further explanation or apology. The poor spokeswoman that had been sent to tell him clearly uncomfortable having to relay the information to him. But just like with people thinking they had a right to bestow their opinions on him or resort to name calling and other discourtesies Rafa had displayed a rather stoic indifference. There wasn't much else he could do about it anyway.   
   
„They... erm... canceled the meet and greet. They weren't comfortable having you alone with those boys. I'm sorry.“  
   
„Sure. Okay. No problem.“  
   
The media, of course, were the worst. Press conferences – especially the English language part of them – had never exactly been fun for him. It was simply a part of his professional life that he knew he had to deal with. But these days it wasn't just a nuisance and a responsibility he needed to attend to – it was pure torture. Of course it would have all been easier if there had been somebody to support him. But Carlos' initial anger seemed to have somehow radiated off to the rest of his team making dealing with them even more of a challenge instead of actually having a soothing, helpful effect as it was supposed to be. So far the whole second week of the tournament had felt like one continued nightmare he somehow still hadn't woken up from and somehow he still managed to win his matches in between though he really had no idea how. 

Even by the third press conference of this week it seemed all the media was interested in was his personal life. It didn't matter that he had advanced through to the semifinals, that a though match-up was waiting from him and that maybe just maybe there was a shot at the title. All they ever wanted to hear about were more and at best somewhat saucy details about his love life and no matter how many times they were told off, they always seemed to find some way to keep at it. 

“I’m not here to talk about that.”  
   
“But you did talk about it. On national TV. Just two days ago.”  
   
He hated the American gossip magazine writers the most – actually hated them with a passion. He had never been particularly fond of that kind of … journalism but it was worse – especially now. The term vultures was still too good for them. Complaining about something he had little control over and that was practically unchangeable wasn't usually something he did. But after the third time on a row of the same probing, improper questions he had actually vented his frustration at one of the tournament officials if only to have an outlet for his anger. He knew he wouldn't achieve much more and the only way to get past all this was through. In the end he had decided to stay stoic – just like with every other blow he had been dealt since his revelation.   
   
“These people are insufferable…”  
   
“We know. But there’s only so much we can do… We could tell them to refrain from asking any personal questions if that's what you want, but I doubt it'll help much. Are you okay with this? With the scrutiny on your personal life?“  
   
„Sure. It’s okay. No problem.“  
   
#*#  
   
the parents  
   
Reaching the semifinal had presented sort of a problem. It was pretty much an unspoken agreement between him and his closest family that if he reached second week of a Grand Slam tournament, his family would come to show their support. But this time nobody seemed interested to actually show up on his behalf and there were only two more matches to go in this tournament… But his family had been blatantly absent and as much as it was their decision, Rafa simply hadn't wanted to be even more alone in all this than he already felt.   
   
In the end he had sent a text message to his mother, hoping for a reply and some sort of contact after days on end in silence. He hadn’t dared to call them and it seemed his parents were equally as content with not talking about this with him either. Astoundingly few people among his friends and family back home had actually made any note of it. But there had been a suspicious amount of them who had suddenly stopped calling him, stopped texting him and stopped showing any interest in contact with him whatsoever. When contact came – in the form of his mother calling him back because of his message - it was not what he had expected.  
   
“Mama?”  
   
“Rafael, I need to speak to you about your message.”  
   
The moment the very first word was out of her mouth, Rafa knew it would shape up to be an awful conversation. She only ever called him by his full name when he had done something wrong. But it seemed to be the general consensus among the people he knew and trusted, that he had made a tremendous mistake and that he deserved to be either yelled at, punished or shut out for it. His parents had been no exception to that rule.   
   
“What about it?”  
   
„We won't be coming.“  
   
“Why?!”  
   
“We don’t feel comfortable being there. Not right now. Not after… what you revealed in that TV interview…”  
   
Maybe his reaction was a little too harsh, a little too desperate but certainly not unwarranted. His family had never not been there this close to a chance at a Grand Slam win… But nothing was exactly normal anymore ever since his revelation. His mother sounded very clearly uncomfortable now - both at his emotional reaction and at addressing the matter. He couldn’t help but feel that this was his parent’s not very subtle way of letting him know there was no support to be expected. And that hurt – enough to make him lash out at her.   
   
„Are you trying to... punish me?“  
   
„No, dear! Of course not. This is not about you being...“  
   
She stopped herself mid-sentence, simply letting the conversation trail off, very obviously unable to even say the word out loud. When he finally did it for her, she didn't even pick up on it. She simply went ahead scolding him some more.   
   
„Gay?“  
   
„It's about the fact that you lied to us. For years and years.“  
   
It felt like déjà vu all over again. He had this very same conversation with Carlos not three days ago and it felt like a joke now as much as it had then. As many times as people told him, he still felt there had been no deceit in his actions. They were his parents but that didn’t mean they had any right or reason to know about every last detail of his life. And for that fact neither did Carlos. For some reason however, that didn’t seem to matter. His silence drawing on prompted his mother to actually demand some sort of explanation from him.  
   
“Don’t you have anything to say for yourself?”  
   
He felt like a five years old, caught with his hand in the cookie jar being forced into some kind of apology like this. Just that he hadn’t done anything wrong…no matter how many times people told him otherwise. He wouldn’t apologize, not again, not for this, not for telling the truth. This wasn’t about honesty anyway – he knew that, his mother knew that, but neither one of them was willing to address the actual problem.  
   
“You know now…”  
   
“Yes. We do… But only because you were forced into a situation you couldn’t cheat your way out of with yet more lies… This is not who we taught you to be – scheming and lying and keeping secrets… It’s like we don’t even know you. How do you think that makes us feel?  
   
“I don’t know.”  
   
“We’re disappointed.”  
   
Rafa wasn’t sure what was worse – the few simple words themselves or that heartbroken tone to his mother’s voice. He had heard them tell him so many times that they were proud of him and that probably should have counted more than this one time right now she told him they were disappointed. But it didn’t. It hurt. More than it probably should, given the fact that he wasn’t 12 anymore and the validation his parents gave him shouldn’t have been so damn important to him.   
   
There was a mildly softer tone to her voice now but it was hard to say if it was sympathy or even regret for the blow she had just dealt him or defeat in the face of his silence. It didn’t really matter though – her words spoke volumes of how she felt about him and the revelations he had been forced into. In the end it seemed not even his closest family was actually willing to stand by him and all that he could do was endure and hope for things to get better once the people around him had more time – time to digest, time to get used to the idea, time to see that they were wrong…  
   
“Just give us time, dear.“  
   
„Sure. Okay. No problem.“  
   
#*#  
   
the other players  
   
There had been a couple of awkward and downright crushing incidents, with people he considered colleagues or maybe even friends on the tour, over the course of the second week after his revelation. Not all of them had acted differently around them of course. Some didn't even know, some didn't care and some simply acting around him like nothing had changed. But there had been enough incidents of people treating him like he had suddenly grown a second head or had developed some seriously contagious disease to simply not notice.   
   
The first one had been Feliciano and he hadn't even talked to Rafa in person but had resorted to sending a couple of rather impersonal text messages only half heartedly veiling the fact that he didn't feel comfortable around the younger man and therefore didn't want to spend anytime with or even near him. Questions had been blocked and had stayed pretty much unanswered and in the end Rafa had done what he had become so good at over the course of these last couple of days – accept and endure.   
   
'I sort of can’t come to lunch with you…'  
   
'Why not?'  
   
'Something came up.'  
   
'What about practice? You said you’d be there…'  
   
'Oh that. Yeah… Maybe another time?'  
   
+++  
   
Then their had been Juan Martin at his quarterfinal match and his opponent had refused to share in a short, friendly hug at the net after the match was over and barely had been able to bring himself to at least extend a hand for Rafa to shake. It had been awkward and uncomfortable and lots of people had watched their exchange, making Rafa feel even worse about the damn rejection that was being thrown at him left, right and center these days. He couldn't even be sure if it was because of the loss or because his opponent felt uncomfortable about his now very openly known sexual preferences.   
   
Later in the privacy of the locker room, the younger man had tried to apologize to him. But even that he hadn't properly managed. Even here – with nobody around – there had been awkwardness between them and it actually seemed it was even worse. Like the younger man somehow feared Rafa would be unable to control himself with nobody else around. Being approached with that guarded posture of self-preservation was almost as bas as the words themselves.  
   
“No hard feelings, okay? I just… I don’t feel…”  
   
“Safe?”  
   
It was hard not to snap at Juan for the rather crude attempt of an apology that neither sounded heartfelt nor genuine. The other man’s eyes widened both at the clipped tone, the suggestion he felt somehow threatened and the rather unforgiving look Rafa had given him. The defense came quickly and was a lot more emotional than the initial apology. It was no surprise though – the other man was actually invested in defending himself, more than he ever had been in apologizing for his behavior.   
   
“What? No! It’s not that… It’s just… Forget it, okay?”  
   
Instead of trying again, at least giving it a chance at a better attempt, his opponent had turned and walked away. It seemed he couldn’t get away from Rafa fast enough and that only added insult to injury. Maybe he was being sensitive or maybe it was due to the fact that this whole second week of the tournament had shaped up into a never ending nightmare but Rafa couldn’t help the feeling that all people did around him these days was to either attack or run away…   
   
+++  
   
And then the semifinal had come and as if this whole week hadn't been enough of a disaster already things actually took a turn for the worse. Rafa knew he wasn't entirely without blame. He had pushed himself beyond the limit of what would have been deemed healthy by any other reasonable person around. Just that there were no reasonable people around him. And all of that bottled up emotion, all those feelings of rejection and abandonment and betrayal had to go somewhere. So they went into his game and even though it had helped him through the tournament so far, this day it was yet another fact of life that simply betrayed him.

It had been late in the second set at the end of a particularly long and grueling ralley when Rafa - at some point - had lost his footing and had slipped and fallen at a really awkward angle, upper body going one way, while the lower part pretty much went the other. He had ended up on his right side, his hipbone taking the brunt of the fall and the moment he touched ground there was a very audible sound somewhere inside that sounded a lot like fabric tearing apart. It definitely wasn't good and the pain that came with it was even worse. 

It was most definitely some sort of tear within the muscle or maybe even something worse and it hurt like hell. Getting his feet back under him and putting any pressure on the affected leg send a white hot stabbing pain through his hip and it had been obvious there was no way to continue the match like this. He had still tried because giving up without a fight simply wasn’t in his nature. Not with something he actually had any control over. He couldn't make people like him or be supportive with him but be could force his unwilling bod into compliance. It was a simple exercise in mind over matter. Just that it wasn't so simple. Somehow this whole week had been wearing down on his defenses, on his ability to block out everything else and focus on the sport. In the end he had to relent to what his body told him and it very clearly told him to stop.   
   
The match was over for him after that second set and he had to admit defeat even though it was the last thing he wanted. Retiring from the match and returning to the locker room afterwards had happened in a blur he had no recollection of. Afterwards he was sitting there on a bench in the locker room, hurting, quite obviously dealing with his own pain – both the physical one from the injury and the emotional one from the loss that he had just been forced to endure – and nobody seemed to care enough to even ask if he was okay…   
   
The one thing he was asked in the end – by his victorious opponent no less - had been a very rude plea for some modesty, something that never would have been a problem before but had turned into a severe issue now. Because somehow everyone around him seemed to think he was suddenly different. Like the old version of him had somehow vanished and had made way for a new, completely different one. Nothing had changed – not for him – and still everybody treated him differently and even seemed to think it was okay to be rude, confrontational and simply awful to him.   
   
“I… wanted to go take a shower.”  
   
His opponent had stepped up to him, quite obviously both nervous and uncomfortable and his strange statement hung in the air like Rafa was supposed to know what to do with it. He wasn’t sure what exactly it was the other man expected of him. Approval? A bottle of shower gel? A show of enthusiasm? As it turned out, he expected something that was so damn ridiculous it would have been funny hadn’t the situation been so awful and dire. Rafa didn't feel like laughing though. Actually he couldn't remember the last time he had felt so much like crying instead. But as with all the other people treating him badly and that he simply couldn't stop from doing it because he had no control over their feelings, he had admitted defeat – yet again.   
   
„Can you... erm... turn?“  
   
„Sure. Okay. No problem.“  
   
   
#*#  
   
the physio  
   
His physio had been the sneakiest one of them all but somehow that fact had eluded Rafa completely up until the point that he actually desperately needed the other man. Even though Maymo was no doctor, he certainly was the most qualified to access the extent of the damage after Rafa's slip and fall before an actual medical professional would take a look at it and put him through a whole battery of tests to determine what exactly was wrong with him.   
   
But his physio had been withdrawn and reluctant, just as he had been the last couple of days. There had been little to no involvement in Rafa's recovery after the other matches ever since the second week had started and while he never would have blamed the other man it was still part of the reason why he was hurt now. Of course it was mostly his fault, because in the end he was the one out there on court pushing himself beyond the limits his body could sustain, causing the injury. But a little more caution and attention from the man who was supposed to take care of him physically certainly would have helped.

Now however there was no chance around it for the other man – not if he wanted to keep his job. They had met up still in the locker room after Rafa had retired from the match and Maymo had done his best to get a feel for the injury... or his version of his best at least. There had been a little poking and prodding but it had been very cautious and not in the least bit helpful. Mostly the other man had seemed tense and anything but focused on the task at hand.   
   
And it seemed like Maymo had suddenly grown afraid of him, uncomfortable and even unwilling to so much as touch him. Things that usually came naturally to the younger man because it was part of his damn job, suddenly seemed to have turned into a monumental and almost unsolvable task. His verdict was just as much of a joke as the whole way he had been acting around Rafa ever since coming to his aide and it took every last ounce of self-control Rafa had within himself not to yell at the other man.  
   
“Well... I don't know what's wrong.”

“Maybe you should do this again and properly this time. I’m not contagious.”  
   
“I know that.”  
   
“Then why do you act like touching me or being anywhere near me for that matter is some sort of punishment?! I need your help!”  
   
The plea for help actually got a reaction, but certainly not the one Rafa had hoped for or expected for that matter. Instead of seeing the error of his ways and actually being the help and support Rafa needed, his physio had pulled away from him. He had gotten up from his crouched position in front of Rafa which gave him the perfect opportunity to look down on him... and Rafa couldn't shake the feeling that that was exactly how his physio wanted to have this conversation. Because they most definitely didn't see eye to eye. 

„I know… It’s just… I'm not sure I feel comfortable. Not now that I know...“  
   
Rafa let out a very audible sigh at the other man's statement. It was like a damn merry-go-round. He always ended up going in circles... And he was sick and tired of people telling him there was suddenly this big difference between who he had been just a week ago and who he was now. And most of all it was infuriating and with his defenses already weakened due to pain and injury this time he couldn't stop himself from raising his voice and losing his temper in the process.   
   
“But it doesn’t change anything!”  
   
“It does for me.”  
   
“I’m still the same person.”  
   
Rafa felt ridiculous even having to say the words out loud. There was no question about this, no doubt. Of course he was still the same person he had been a week ago. Nothing about him, his believes, his preferences had changed – only the fact that other people knew about it now was new. But still Maymo looked at him like he had said something tremendously stupid. But his physio never actually picked up on the statement, choosing to ignore it instead and finish off the attempt at a useful discussion with a shrug and a very small, very nervous smile.   
   
„I'll try, okay? And we see how it goes. But if it doesn't... You should probably look for a replacement. Just in case.“  
   
It wasn't as blatant and rude a rejection as all the other's, which was why Rafa had come to the conclusion that Maymo was the sneakiest of all the people around him. Because even if he used nicer words and a more timid tone, the fact still remained that he rejected Rafa all the same, just like everyone else had done, withdrawing his support and leaving him to fend for himself. And Rafa had no fight left. He was exhausted, he was hurting and he had no energy for much of anything but to simply accept the facts life was dealing him these days.   
   
„Sure. Okay. No problem.“


	4. Home is not a place, it's a feeling

#*#  
   
the best friend  
   
Although they had all been on the same flight back to Barcelona, Rafa had felt very much alone. Nobody on his team had accompanied him to his hospital appointment in Barcelona and after a battery of tests that had revealed a rather severe muscular problem – just as he had suspected - he had made his way back home to Mallorca on his own. He had asked Tomeu to pick him up from the airport, not wanting to bother either one of his parents after the way the last conversation with his mother had gone...

With the prescribed pills and the rest he was supposed to have over the course of the next couple of days, driving on his own had been out of the question. But Tomeu had come through for him and with that was the very first person in over a week not to simply reject or ignore him. It felt almost too good to be true and Rafa should have known better than to trust that the fact his friend had agreed to come and get him, meant that nothing had changed between them.

He was wrong. It was painstakingly obvious in the very fact that Tomeu seemed nervous when they met. And his friend didn't inquire after his injury. He gave him a sympathetic look, offered to take his stuff but he never once asked how Rafa was feeling. And he hadn't so much as offered a hug or even a handshake in greeting, falling in line with all the other people Rafa had been sure he could trust to support him who were suddenly afraid of being close with him...   
   
The drive from Palma to Porto Cristo took about 45 minutes and they spent most of it in utter silence. Under different circumstances Rafa wouldn't have minded. It had been a grueling two weeks at the last Grand Slam tournament of the year, he had a long flight and a battery of tests at the hospital in Barcelona behind him and all he wanted was some peace and quiet. Just that the silence between him and Tomeu was not a comfortable one. Actually Rafa couldn’t remember a single time they had been this awkward around one another. 

It wasn’t until they reached the outskirts of the town and had effectively reached their destination that Tomeu eventually broke the silence without ever looking at his friend, utterly fascinated and focused on the road. It wasn't like there was a lot of traffic or like the roads were unfamiliar to him, he simply didn't feel comfortable actually looking Rafa in the eyes.   
   
“You were never…”  
   
“What?”  
   
“I don’t know… Interested or something…”

The question took a long moment to settle in and Rafa needed even more time to actually make sense of it and figure out what exactly it was Tomeu was asking him. He had a certain suspicion but it was too much of a joke to actually be the truth of what Tomeu wanted to know. Then again the other man made no move to explain himself further and in the end Rafa simply asked for clarification. As it turned out his suspicions were confirmed. His friend was actually curious – or afraid maybe more so – to be of some sort of romantic interest to Rafa. It was once again one of those moment that would have been hilarious hadn't they been both sad and infuriating at the same time. By now Rafa couldn't wait to reach home and get out of the damn car for a chance to put some distance between himself and his long time friend who had obviously managed to lose his mind over the course of the last ten days.   
   
“In you?”  
   
“Yes! In me! Who else would I be asking about?!”  
   
“You like girls, Tomeu.”  
   
“I know that!”

His friend's reaction was a heated one and Tomeu had stopped the car - in the driveway of the seaside house they had just reached - rather abruptly, causing Rafa to catch himself at an awkward angle that made him wince as the movement send a wave of pain through his injured leg. If Tomeu had realized what he had done, he didn't seem to care. Quite obviously his friend was too hung up on this ridiculous conversation to care for his friend's well-being. The one thing Rafa wanted was to leave – his friend, the car and the conversation. But not before making it absolutely clear that not only was Tomeu being an idiot, he was also way out of line.   
   
“What are you asking then? What are you thinking? I can’t control my urges whenever I see a guy? I force myself on you? You’re my friend!”  
   
“Yeah… Yes, I am.”  
   
It didn’t sound like a statement, more like a question and the all familiar dread that had been a constant companion these last couple of days settled in again. Rafa had lost enough friends over the very simple fact that he had been true to himself and his preferences already. First Mateo – and even thinking about that made him want to curl up in some dark corner somewhere – then Meri and now it seemed Tomeu was about to follow suit. Rafa could have left it at that, could have left the unsure statement stand like that. But he was angry and disappointed and instead of letting it slide, hoping against hope that his friend would come to see reason all on his own, Rafa pushed.   
   
“You didn’t pick me up as a courtesy or to talk to me about how I feel about you, didn’t you?”  
   
“No. Actually I wanted to talk to you about the academy…”  
   
There it was - the next low blow was shaping up just there and now. Tomeu would be leaving the position he had at the academy because just like all the others he didn't want to be around Rafa. This was worse though. Obviously his long time friend didn't even want to be associated with him anymore... because he felt apprehensive and afraid Rafa might hit on him or something. It was utterly ridiculous and above all it was hurtful. But if this was how Tomeu felt – how any of them felt for that matter – Rafa had learned the hard way over the course of the last week and a half that there was little he could do. It was yet another friend lost, another relationship betrayed, another admission of defeat – and Rafa had the reaction to that down to perfection by now.   
   
„I just need to take some time off. Time to think. You should probably find somebody else for the academy for the time being...“  
   
„Sure. Okay. No problem.“  
    
#*#  
   
the sister  
   
Rafa couldn't get away from Tomeu fast enough and the minute the door to the family sea side home had fallen shut behind him and he was alone in the silence of the very empty house, he had allowed himself to cry. It had been ugly and messy and full of raw emotion – a tearful lament over the unfairness and the sheer pain of it all. The fact that he was physically hurting, that he was tired and exhausted and unable to do much of anything but lie down, take his pills and endure the hand fate had dealt him, hadn't made matters any easier. 

He had slept for about a day, exhaustion claiming him, pulling him under and mercifully granting him a deep, dreamless slumber that he woke from bleary eyed, unsure of where he was for the longest of moments and not feeling the least bit refreshed. But there had been two missed calls on his phone, both of them from Maribel, and a text asking how he was and telling him to call her back and talk to her to put her mind at ease about how he was doing.

Maribel had been pretty much the one and only trusted family member that had not rejected him over all this. It was probably due to the fact that she had known before or at least had been very much aware that the thing Rafa shared with Mateo... or had shared, after all they weren't together any more, had never been just about two guys sharing a friendship. She hadn't called him out on it at any point though and had simply treated him the same. She had been the one exception to the rile. She had not acted like he had suddenly grown a second head and could not be talked to or even be seen with anymore. 

Of course his sister was in a uniquely difficult position. She was very much wedged in between him and their parents trying to find some middle ground while dealing with either of them and Rafa knew that couldn't be easy for her. She didn't complain about it though, hardly ever talked about it and was simply there for him when he needed her – one, steady constant in all this mess that was his life right now.

The doctors in Barcelona had prescribed a battery of pills and a lot of rest until the follow up appointment 10 days later. After that physical therapy had been in order, which presented sort of a challenge given the fact that Rafa’s physio had taken time off and a replacement had not yet been looked for…Matters had progressed slowly, Rafa had lacked his usual determination and the regimen of physical therapy and  medication had continued for weeks on end without any real breakthroughs.   
   
These weeks of recuperating, of trying to return to some semblance of normalcy had been a test in patience and endurance. But unlike any other time before, he had to do it all by himself this time. And that had sucked – royally. It had been unusually quite around the house. Normally people came and went whenever Rafa spent time at home, because he so rarely ever got a chance for it.   
Nobody had shown much of any interest in how he was doing and how the injury was progressing this time though… Even with Maribel showing support, Rafa had felt utterly alone a lot of the time.  
   
The most awful thing was the fact that though pretty much everybody who had betrayed and abandoned him, had told him all they needed was a little time. His recovery had been going on for over a month now and still Meri and Mateo, Tomeu and his parents just as much as Carlos and the rest of his team seemed utterly content to simply leave the matter be and not even attempt to show some sort of progression with their attempts to come to terms with the truth they had learned about him. A new status quo had established itself and all those trusted friends and family members seemed utterly happy not to change even a single thing about it. They left him alone...

Especially with his parents he had expected a different reaction after weeks on end with radio silence. He felt bad whenever he complained to his sister about it, knowing fully well he put her in an awful position. He didn't expect anything of her though and he knew she was grateful for that. All Maribel knew was that their parents seemed utterly content to simply leave the matter unresolved and just not talk about it at all because it was easier this way. And for some reason her brother – though complaining about it and utterly devastated at the unfairness of it all - had shown no determination or interest either. She didn't know what exactly had been said between them. She could only assume it had been bad – so bad her brother lacked the courage to even so much as show his face around the rest of the family. She had no idea how to help with that though... Or if she should do it at all. This wasn’t her battle to fight after all…  
   
The further her brother's recovery progressed the more concerned did Maribel grow over the fact that there was little to no contact with Rafa's team that should have made plans with him for the last few European tournaments of this year that he would travel to. She knew little to nothing about what had happened with the team back in New York and now that there had been no need for traveling for so many weeks it seemed a strange new status quo had established itself with them too – one where her brother wasn’t exactly sure if he still had a coach and a physio to take with him once the last two tournaments of this year came around. It was less than three weeks now and preparations should have been in order but her brother had shown little to no interest thinking that far ahead anyway. It seemed he was utterly content just sitting at home, doing nothing…  
   
It wasn't exactly nothing though. They had planned a short weekend trip to take the yacht around parts of the island, simply enjoying a beautiful late autumn weekend, just the two of them being together, goofing around, acting like children. Maribel knew Rafa needed that kind of outlet, that kind of support and kindness. Which made her feel even worse about the fact that she couldn't give it to him. At least not on this particular weekend. Calling to tell him, she hated how excited and enthusiastic he sounded on the phone, knowing fully well she had to crush those happy feelings with what she had to tell him.    
   
“Are you on your way? We were supposed to leave half an hour ago… Where are you?”  
   
“I’m still at work.”  
   
“Oh.”  
   
“Look, I’m sorry, okay? I tried but there’s been sort of an emergency here… I know I said I'd be there, but I can't get away until tomorrow. Would you be okay to go alone?“  
   
Maribel wasn't even aware of how hard the words she had chosen to use hit her brother. IN all those weeks she had been there for him and had shown her support, she had never once rejected him for whatever reason. But now she had done it and that made her rejection all the more devastating. She hadn’t asked if he was willing to wait for her, hadn’t asked for him to simply change his plans or maybe even pick her up. She had asked for him to go on his own… 

She hadn’t said it in so many words but the message was blatantly obvious. She didn’t want to spend time with him… and now she had the perfect excuse not to. Maybe she had been looking for an excuse all along, never finding one, staying and helping out of obligation more than anything else... He could have called her out on it, could have engaged in a discussion with her, could have fought her on her decision. But he didn't. Instead he did what he had grown so used to over the last weeks. Uttering the same admission of defeat to her as he had to so many other people down the line felt like a white hot stab of pain through the heart.   
   
„Sure. Okay. No problem.“  
   
#*#  
   
Roger

The idea for Roger to come to Mallorca for practice and preparation had been mostly his though Rafa had at no time voiced any concerns about it. The younger man seemed to have lost any drive to do much of anything on his own initiative in general as of late. It was a disconcerting realization and there was no doubt in Roger's mind it had to do with that unfortunate coming out Rafa had been forced into. 

It was also why the decision had been reached without them ever actually talking to one another. Which was sort of strange in itself. They usually talked a lot. But ever since the US Open and that dreadful TV interview, Rafa had been very guarded around him. Even their text messages had been sort of short and impersonal these last few weeks. Roger had let it slide, knowing they would get a chance to talk in person sooner or later. It was better that way. Talking via text or even on the phone simply never managed to convey the same kind of emotions as a face to face did. And Rafa needed some serious talking to – that much was blatantly obvious. 

He had tried not to treat Rafa any differently because really there was no need or reason for that. And it wasn't like the revelation had been that much of a surprise. The timing and the venue could have been better but all in all the shock factor to it was pretty small. Of course he had never really known but he had his suspicions and to him there was no real surprise in it. Just as there was no need to make a big deal out of it and as clipped and emotionless as most of their texts had been these last weeks, Roger still felt Rafa appreciated to be left alone about this. There was enough focus and attention on the matter as it was and Roger didn't need to add to that.

With only two day left before they would finally meet in person after Rafa's long absence from the tour due to his injury, Roger had decided to finally end the nonverbal conversations and actually call. Mostly he did it because there were a couple of things they needed to coordinate prior to Roger's arrival but it wasn't the only reason. After weeks on end without much of any contact other than the few texts, Roger was actually eager to hear the younger man's voice. His elation about that chance however was pretty short lived.   
   
“Hey, Rafa. I just called to let you know I’ll be taking a rental car from the airport. No need for you to drive back and forth with that injury of yours… How are you by the way?”  
   
“Fine.”  
   
“You don’t sound fine to me… Did something happen?”  
   
“I told people I’m gay.”

There was a sarcasm and a defeat to the words that caught Roger completely off guard. It was more like Rafa had admitted to having hurt somebody or something equally as awful. Roger knew the fallout from the revelation hadn't exactly been pleasant – at least when it came to fans and media attention. He had no idea how friends and family had reacted though. He hadn't asked and Rafa hadn't told him. Judging from the younger man's tone of voice, the reactions had not been all that good... But Roger refused to believe it was the sole reason Rafa sounded so... off. Maybe it was the injury, maybe he was hurting and maybe it was best to postpone their meeting. He tried to pry but didn't get very far.   
   
“I know that. I mean apart from that.”  
   
“It’s enough.”  
   
Rafa sounded utterly forlorn. There was so much more to the two words than their actual meaning. A whole battery of emotions hiding behind them and Roger wasn't exactly sure how to address that fact. He felt uncomfortable having this conversation, especially on the phone. It didn’t feel right and it was definitely something that was better addressed face to face. It wouldn't be long now and he could only hope the younger man would understand it was better this way.   
   
“Look I’m in a bit of a hurry right now…”  
   
“It’s okay. You go.”

There was an edge to Rafa's voice that didn't sit quite right with him. As well as Rafa knew to hide his emotions away when he needed to, he had never quite been able to fool Roger. There was something else, something bothering the younger man, something that had him on edge. But yet again the fact that he wasn't there, that he had only Rafa's tone of voice to go on instead of the other man's facial expression stopped him from pushing any further. It was just two more days after all – he would be able to talk to Rafa then, get him to open up and hopefully help him to get over whatever it was that had him in this funk.   
   
„I'll be there Sunday as promised. Probably around lunchtime. Then we can talk?“  
   
„Sure. Okay. No problem.“


	5. Wake up call

*Present – earlier that same day*

Things hadn't really been working out in Roger's favor way before he and Maribel had realized something was wrong with Rafa. It had already started at the airport back home where his flight had been delayed by more than an hour and a half, which meant it would be impossible to keep their lunch date. He had tried to reach Rafa then but his calls had gone straight to voice mail and he had left a message, letting the younger man know he would be late. With some more trouble picking up his rental car, Roger was more than an hour late when he finally arrived in Porto Christo.

Stopping ad parking the car in the driveway to Rafa's house, Roger walked the rest of the way. Ringing the doorbell he waited for access to the house. But it wasn't Rafa who opened the door on him, it was his younger sister and Maribel seemed very much surprised to see him here. Quite obviously she didn't even know about the meeting he and Rafa had planned.  
   
„Roger? What are you doing here?“

“Maribel, hi. I didn't expect you to be here. I was supposed to meet your brother for lunch. We made plans...“  
   
„He's not here.“  
   
“That’s strange. I told him I would be here not two days ago…”  
   
He went for his cellphone to give a call to Rafa another try but Maribel stopped him before he even had a chance to scroll through his contacts.  
   
“Don’t bother. I already tried. He’s not answering. He’s probably out of service range. He took the yacht. We were supposed to go together but I couldn't get out of work. I came to check on him but as I said... he's not here. Not yet.”  
   
“I'm an hour late, Maribel. The flight was delayed and then there was trouble with the rental car. He should be here by now. He might show up late but missing an appointment entirely… that’s not like him.”

“Maybe it's just a misunderstanding or something is wrong with the yacht. Let me try something... There's someone else I can ask for information.”  
   
She had asked him to come in, had settled him in the kitchen with a cup of coffee and had proceeded to call whoever it was she hoped could help her to find out where her brother had disappeared to. He tried to focus on the conversation while sipping at his coffee but of course he had no idea what Maribel was saying. The conversation was held in their native tongue and the only word Roger could actually make out was Rafa's name. 

What he could make out were the emotions displaying on the younger woman's face while she was on the phone. At first she seemed confused and very much surprised, the emotion very quickly turned to irritation and finally to concern. She put the call on hold after a couple of minutes and Roger – who had very much picked up on the worried expression on her face – asked for a recap of what the phone call had been about.  
   
„What's wrong?“  
   
„Our cousin who usually captains the yacht... he's here on the island. He didn't know Rafa wanted to go, they didn't talk about it. I told him what my brother told me, that we were supposed to leave together on Friday evening and he was completely oblivious... He has no idea where Rafa is either...“  
   
„But you said the yacht isn't there, didn't you? So if it's not at the marina, could he have taken it out all by himself? Does he know how to do that?“  
   
„Yes of course. It's just a legal requirement to have somebody with an actual license aboard. But of course he knows how to do it himself..“  
   
„So he told you he would take the yacht out and take your cousin along, your cousin has no idea and he told me he would meet me here for lunch today. Something is not adding up...“  
   
She nodded and then picked up the phone again, resuming the call sh still had on hold. Another short piece of conversation in Mallorquin followed and this time Maribel had sounded very much determined. After about another minute she ended the call and Roger asked about the contents of the conversation yet again.   
   
„What did you tell him?“  
   
„To call the coast guard.“  
   
Matters had proceeded quickly from there on out. It had been an anxious waiting game for about 45 minutes before the cousin had called back, letting them know that the call to the coast guard had turned up both the yacht and Rafa. They had been on their way to Palma minutes after that and that’s where they were still right now, both deeply lost in thought, reminiscing over everything that had happened these past few weeks…  
   
It was almost another hour before a nurse finally showed up to get Maribel and take her to ICU to go and see her brother, leaving Roger behind in the waiting area yet again. He didn't envy the younger woman though. Seeing her brother like this had to be hard on her... and in Roger's eyes Maribel was brave for doing this. He couldn't even have imagined being in her shoes. The doctor waited for Maribel when the nurse dropped her off at ICZU and he had good news for her, though he still urged her for caution and prudence.  
   
“I need you to tread carefully, please?”  
   
“What’s wrong?!”  
   
“There is nothing wrong, I assure you. Your brother regained consciousness.”  
   
“Already?”  
   
“It seems the medication to counteract the pills he took, took effect a lot more quickly than we anticipated. He’s was a little agitated when he first woke up though. I think we managed to get him to calm down, but please don't do or say anything that might upset him. I wouldn’t feel comfortable pushing even more sedation on his already compromised system… It could have adverse consequences.”  
   
The doctor accompanied her to her brother's room, repeating his plea for her to simply be careful around him before leaving her to fend for herself. Entering the room felt like a monumental task and somehow the fact that her brother was awake and she would be able to talk to him wasn'T helping much. At least he knew she was coming. The doctor had told her so. He hadn'T explained much of anything and she wasn't exactly sure what she had expected. This was ICU after all. But seeing her brother was almost... anticlimactic.

He didn't even look sick... that was the one thing that struck her as odd as she entered the room. Maybe Rafa was a little pale but then again that had been a prominent feature over the course of the last couple of weeks. She stepped up to the bed, trying for a smile of her own and very much aware of the fact that she was failing. She had no idea how to handle this situation, how to talk to him being so damn sure that he had brought the hospitalization – and the drug abuse that had lead up to it – on himself. IN the end he made it easy for her – by simply addressing her in a slightly worried and embarrassed tone of voice. Everything somehow fell into place from there on out.   
   
“Mari...”

“I was worried about you... How do you feel?”  
   
“Drowsy, tired and embarrassed… I feel like an idiot. They tell me I took too many of my pills…”  
   
The one thing Maribel managed in response to her brother's words was to stare at him. He didn't even deny he had taken the pills... The problem was that he didn’t admit to doing it on purpose and Maribel had no idea how to handle that blatant lie. Calling him out on it seemed like a tremendously stupid idea. Not saying anything at all about it however was equally as bad. In the end she decided to stall by simply changing the topic.  
   
“I should probably call our parents...”  
   
“No! No… No need to bother them with this. They don’t need to know.”  
   
“They don’t… You want me to lie to them?! Keep the fact from them that you… almost died?!”  
   
She knew it was the wrong approach, stating the facts so bluntly and it was exactly what the doctor had advised against. But Rafa's ignorance towards the very fact that his immediate family needed to find out what had happened, made it very hard for Maribel to stay calm. She wasn't sure she would actually be willing to go against his wishes though... as stupid as they were. He was still smiling at her – a small, tired, nervous and above all very fake smile. 

She couldn’t remember anyone who had ever looked so miserable and had yet managed to smile. It was a heartbreaking display and of course she didn’t believe a word of what he had to tell her. Even as every last instinct told her not to push him on the matter, she couldn't just let this slide. Maybe Rafa was able to lie to himself about this, but she wouldn't be fooled. He had not taken those pills because he had been distracted or in pain or not aware of what he was doing. He had done it on purpose – he knew that and so did she.   
   
“I’m fine now. It was just a mistake. An accident.”  
   
„You didn't take those pills by accident...“  
   
„No, not really an accident. It was a stupid mistake. I didn’t pay attention. I'm sorry.“  
   
The fact that he apologized was the worst part of it all. Like that would somehow make everything better. But it didn't. It made it worse. Because it seemed Rafa felt if only he apologized often enough – even for stuff he shouldn't have to apologize for – people would leave him be. The saddest part about it all was that it worked. Maribel simply couldn't bring herself to force him to have any more of this argument. She changed the topic instead, to something she felt more comfortable with... because it was what she needed... She wondered when the last time had been anyone had given a thought to what her brother needed. It was probably a while ago... otherwise they wouldn't be here like this right now. 

“Your doctor insists that you stay the night.”

“Sure. No problem.”

His reaction caused a shiver to run down her spine. She had heard him say those very same words so many times over the course of the last couple of weeks and she was sick and tired of hearing them. Unlike most of the other times it wasn't meant as a display of defeat though, he simply acknowledged to the facts. Still it hurt hearing him say it and Maribel didn't want Rafa to realize how raw all of her emotions were right there and then. He didn't need that. She stepped a little closer, placing a hand on his forearm, squeezing tightly. This time she managed a more sincere smile. 

“Try to get some rest, okay?”

“Okay.”  
   
Returning back to the Roger had sort of happened in a daze and Maribel had insisted on taking the doctor along so they could both speak with him again. He was best equipped to explain Rafa's condition and that meant Maribel wouldn't have to do it and wouldn't have to answer any of the older man's questions abut how she felt. It was the last thing she wanted right now. The doctor had been reluctant at first. After all Roger wasn't a family member. But upon her insistence, he had explained the medical facts. 

They kept the conversation in English, for Roger’s benefit and in order for Maribel not to have to translate and explain everything twice. In the end there was one very important question left and that pertained to the very fact that even though her brother had regained consciousness and seemed very much composed, there was no doubt in her mind he should be left to his own devices. Not after what had happened today. Unfortunately the doctor was little to no help in that department.   
   
„Isn't there anything you can do?“  
   
„Do about what?“  
   
„Keeping him here? Making sure he gets help.“  
   
„He says he made a mistake. That he took the wrong amount and mix-up of pills accidentally. He said he was in pain and he didn't pay attention. Legally I have no grounds to keep him. He's awake, his vital signs are better, if not exactly good, he's coherent and not presenting any signs of depression or anxiety or any other psychological problem. He's free to go if he pleases as soon as his vital signs are back at a normal range.“  
   
“Which gives us a day, right?”  
   
“Yes.”  
   
“And there really is nothing you can do to keep him?”

“No. Not legally. And I don't think it is necessary. What he needs a hospital cannot give him.”

The doctor wasn't exactly subtle in telling them that the one thing Rafa needed most was the support of the people around him – continued and unconditional which had simply not been available to him over the course of these last couple of weeks. Even Maribel or Roger couldn't claim that for themselves and they had been pretty much the only help, the only ones on Rafa's side while the rest of friends and family had mostly chosen to simply ignore the hardship life had thrown at Rafa, leaving him to fend for himself. Maribel couldn't help but sigh at the realization.

“Support. You mean support... How are we supposed to handle this?”  
   
“Don’t pressure him. Don’t force him to talk about this if he doesn’t want to. Be patient, be supportive. That’s about it.”  
   
“Do you believe him?”  
   
“Actually, I do. At least to some extent There’s only three scenarios with this kind of thing – accidental, unplanned and planned. This wasn’t accidental I am sure of that. But it wasn’t planned either.”

The doctor sounded very sure of himself and somehow that came as a surprise to Maribel. After all they only had very limited knowledge of the facts. Rafa wouldn't tell the truth, had opted to tell them a little white lie instead and without him letting them in on what had actually happened, there was no way to know for sure. Then again the doctor had years and years of experience and as sad as it was, this probably wasn't the first case of this nature that he handled. Still Maribel was unwilling to simply take his word for it.   
   
“Why would you say that?”  
   
“We wouldn’t have gotten to him in time. People who plan a suicide make sure they will get it right. They don’t want to be found. And they almost always leave a note to explain themselves. He hasn’t done any of those things. Which makes me believe he simply… overreacted.”  
   
“That’s what you call this?! An overreaction?! He could have died!”

The one thing that actually made her so emotional wasn't the doctor's choice of words. It was the fact that he had very clearly addressed what had happened to her brother as a suicide attempt... Even having to associate that with something her brother had actually done... it just didn't sound right to her. And she wasn't sure she would ever be able to wrap her head around this. The doctor had raised both hands in a display of reassurance, showing he had meant no disrespect or harm. 

“Even in the severity of possible consequences I stand by what I said. It was a very disproportionate reaction to a difficult situation. It happens. And I will go as far as saying that it will not repeat itself.”

“Are you sure about that?”

“There are no guarantees of course. It depends on him mostly... and on the support system he will be provided with.”

“That's us... Well he'll be fine then! I refuse to fail him again. I simply won't do it.”

There was a sudden stubborn determination to Maribel that seemed to have appeared out of nowhere. She reminded Roger very much of her brother in that moment – the fierce, sometimes even stupid determination to simply not give up, no matter what. It was a character trait Rafa himself seemed to be sorely lacking these days... Roger however was wholeheartedly willing to support the younger woman in her stubbornness – by any means he had at his disposal.   
   
“What do you want to do?”

“Get everyone back on board I guess... It's awful enough that he needed to go this far in order for us to see that he is troubled and that he needs our help. With all the attention, all those people who don't even know him thinking they have a right to an opinion... It was hard enough on him. But barely having anyone for support, that was harder.”  
   
“I don’t think he even cares about what anyone else had to say. Press and fans and even fellow players always have been a little difficult from time to time. They aren’t part of the support system he relies on.”  
   
“No. That would be me… us. Friends and family…”  
   
“They should be there when he comes home tomorrow. He needs to know he’s not alone in any of this.”  
   
“I haven’t even told our parents yet… How do I do that? How do I tell them their son tried to…”

Maribel stopped herself mid sentence. As determined as she was to do right by her brother now, she simply couldn't bring herself to actually admit to what Rafa had done. Saying it out loud would make it a reality and she wasn't sure she was actually able to accept and deal with that yet. For now she had a task at hand she could focus on – get her brother's support system back in order. It was a difficult task enough already. Luckily Roger seemed to sense that pushing the matter would not be helpful. He shrugged in response, trying to put some sort of positive spin on it all.   
   
“Maybe it’s the incentive that is needed. It helped us to finally see the truth.”  
   
“Yes, that’s great. All it took was for my brother to try and end his life so we would finally realize he’s in trouble. That’s just amazing!”  
   
The anger and irritation she felt made it easier to actually deal with her brother's actions and it made it easier to admit to them. Not that she actually allowed herself to dwell on the thought. Her sarcasm helped and worked as the desperately needed catharsis, making it easier to keep a level head about all this. She knew what she had to do. What she didn't know however was how to act on it and actually get things done... Roger however had a simple but brilliant solution for that. 

“If I can gather friends and family and that’s sort of a big if at the moment… what do I tell them?”  
   
“The truth.”


	6. Resolve

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm not happy with the final chapter of this story.  
> I feel it's generally lacking in... well pretty much everything.  
> I hope you like it better than I do.
> 
> Thanks to everyone who read and reviewed.
> 
> <>°O°<>

*The next morning*

Rafa hadn't slept. At least not a lot. It was mostly because his own mind hadn't let him. But there was also the very obvious fact that ICU was rather loud and disruptive and as he had forced his body through a chemically induced unconsciousness that had almost stopped his breathing the medical staff had been very reluctant to give any medication to him that would have allowed for him to sleep through the night. 

Not being able to sleep had given him a lot of time to think though. He hadn't lied to his sister when he had told her he felt embarrassed. Actually he felt massively ashamed. He still couldn't explain what had possessed him to even do this in the first place. The only thing he had come up with so far, was that it had been a very weak moment. But that was no real excuse. A weak moment didn't drive normal people to take a lot of pills to drown their sorrow away. Maybe that meant he wasn't normal then... Enough people had told him the very same thing over the course of the last couple of weeks. Hearing it often enough, maybe he had started believing it... 

He had regretted his action – his deep rooted and complete loss of power and senses – the second he had done it and he had tried to call for help. Cell reception had been a problem though and by the time he realized he needed to get up to call for help, his legs hadn't really been working, he had felt dizzy and tired and that was pretty much the last thing he remembered. Waking up here at the hospital he had both felt relieved and very, very awful. 

It was the main reason why he had been so agitated when the doctor had told him his sister was just outside, waiting to see him. Of course he knew that somebody had to have called for help on his behalf. Otherwise he probably wouldn't have woken up again... He was grateful of course, grateful for the fact that the split second desperate decision he had made had not ended in disaster. But the fact that what he had done would not go by unnoticed and that he would have to explain himself... that had filled him with dread. And Mari was one of the few people still standing by him. To others, less lenient people around him it would only add fuel to the fire as they already deemed him weird and wrong and useless... 

He had never intended to actually end it, not really. What he had wanted was a moment of peace – and he had definitely chosen the wrong way to get it. Lying to Maribel had been the hardest thing he had to do in all this. And of course she hadn't believed him. But still he had stubbornly clung to his white lies, his deflections – not only to fool her, but mostly to fool himself... Luckily enough she had let it go soon enough... though she had clearly been disappointed in him. But that was a reaction he was very much used to these days... 

It was past nine in the morning now. Breakfast had come and gone without him actually touching any of the food and after another doctor's visit – that would bring with it the results of the blood test done earlier today – he would most definitely be allowed to leave the hospital. He wasn't exactly sure how to get home though. He had no keys on him, no wallet – both of those probably still at the yacht – and he wouldn't have so much as a set of clothes on him, hadn't his sister had the foresight to bring them along before coming to visit him at the hospital. The one thing he did have on him was his cell phone though, even though he had no memory of how it had come to be here. He had probably still had it on him when the coast guard had found him and had brought him here... He only realized the fact because the thing started ringing while he was still waiting for the doctor's visit. Picking it up from the nightstand, Rafa couldn't help but frown at the caller ID. This was not a call he had expected. 

“Meri...”  
   
“Hi... I... Are you busy? Is this a bad time?”  
   
“No, it’s okay.”

Rafa steeled himself against what was to come. He was sure Meri had been informed about what had happened to him and that was the sole reason she called – because she felt guilty. She sounded nervous enough and almost a little shy, which were two character traits he really didn't associate with her. But it was probably due to her knowing what he had done... or maybe he had simply forgotten. He hadn't heard from Meri since that fateful day in New York. She had stayed true to her words not wanting any more contact with him. Which was why it came as a surprise to Rafa that she was calling now. What surprised him even more was the fact that she seemed to have completely turned her opinion about him around.   
   
“I’m sorry for calling you like this. After everything I said and then all those weeks of radio silence, you probably don’t want to hear from me…”  
   
“It’s a surprise. But a good one.”  
   
“I wanted to apologize.”  
   
“You don’t have to. You weren’t wrong.”

She definitely was the one person who's anger he could relate to and understand and that made it a lot easier to accept her apology and actually forgive. It hadn't been on purpose and he had hardly been aware at the time but still he had hurt her... He hadn't expected her to get over it – not after the way they had ended things – but it seemed the long period of time apart had given Meri a chance to gain a new perspective on things.   
   
“Maybe. But I wasn’t right either. I never even saw the interview, only the news report afterwards. I did take the time to actually watch it later on and I know I was an idiot to blame you like this… You were forced into an answer.”  
   
“I told you that.”  
   
“Yes, you did. And I didn’t listen… I was too angry to listen.”  
   
“You had every right to be.”

“Maybe. I also had a responsibility to a friend who was going through a hard time. But I was too blinded by my own feelings of hurt and anger and betrayal to ever even realize this was difficult and painful for you too… I had a lot of time to think and I… I read some of the stuff the media published in the wake of your coming out.”

It felt good to actually hear her admit to the fact that she had treated him unfairly in regards to their friendship. There was certainly enough blame to pass around, but as his decision had been a split second one that had caused her pain, hers had been more measured and calculated. It didn't really matter now anymore. It was done and they couldn't change it. What they could do was to try and pick up the broken pieces to put them back together to some semblance of what they had before. 

“I didn’t.”  
   
“Good for you. Please don’t ever do. Most of it is simply disrespectful and some of it is downright disgusting… It’s not right. This is your life after all, not theirs…”  
   
Rafa wasn't sure how to respond to that rather obvious recollection of the facts. He was glad though he had not taken a closer look at what the media had come up with in the aftermath of his revelation. Judging from Meri's words it was bad... and it sounded very much like what he had to deal with at the press conferences during the US Open had only been the tip of the iceberg. A nurse and the doctor walking past his room discussing another patient loud enough for their voices to carry distracted him and it seemed Meri had picked up on the conversation in the background too, her voice displaying both surprise and a hint of worry.  
   
“Where are you?”  
   
“Hospital.”  
   
“Why?! Is it the injury? Is it worse?”

She sounded even more worried now and even though having her concerned like this definitely wasn't a nice feeling for her, Rafa couldn't help but appreciate the concern. It felt almost unfamiliar to actually have somebody care like this. But it also put him in the very difficult position of what to tell her and how much to let on about what had happened the day before, what he had done. In the end he decided to keep it vague and short. They had only just found a way back to one another and he wouldn't have quite called them reconciled. He simply didn't feel comfortable putting to much trust in Meri yet.   
   
“No, I… I did something stupid.”  
   
“Stupid how?”  
   
“I really don’t want to talk about this now. Some other time, okay?”

There was a long, guarded silence on the other end of the line and Rafa could very well imagine the thoughtful expression on Meri's face as she debated which way was the best to react. He didn't expect her to challenge him on his decision though. She probably felt as apprehensive about this freshly reinstated relationship between them as he did. In the end she relented though it was clearly audible in her voice how reluctant she was not to push for more information.   
   
“Okay… But you are okay, right? You’re healthy?”  
   
“As well as can be expected.”  
   
“Good. That’s good… Will you call me? Maybe we can meet for lunch or coffee or something.”  
   
“I’d be happy to.”  
   
They had ended the call and soon after the doctor had shown up, letting him know his blood work had shown no further problems and that he was free to go. The challenge of how and where exactly still were unsolved but as it turned out there was no need to worry. The second surprise of today came in the form of his sister, who was waiting for him outside of ICU when he was ready to leave. She hadn't indicated she would be here and given the fact that the last thing he had done when talking to her last night had been to lie to her, he had not expected her to.   
   
“Mari… You came.”  
   
“Of course I came here. How did you think you would get back to Porto Cristo?”  
   
“Take a cab?”  
   
“Don’t be ridiculous.”

It had been the end of the discussion and there had been no room for arguments left. Maribel had come to take him home and that was exactly what she did. The drive back to Porto Cristo was mostly silent, but even though there were unspoken things between them and even though he had effectively lied to her not even a day ago, it wasn't an uncomfortable silence between them. 

Upon their arrival in Porto Cristo and at the house, Rafa was surprised to find other cars sitting in the driveway. Just like he hadn't expected Maribel to pick him up, he had not expected any visitors. After all there hadn't been any of them over the course of the last couple of weeks and it struck him as kind off odd they were here from him now. His sister gave him a small, almost nervous smile and Rafa immediately knew this was her doing. 

“I have sort of a surprise for you.”

“I can see that. What is all this?”

“Friends. Family. Support...”

It had been a difficult task to organize it all but her brother didn't need to know that. Maribel had been nothing if not persistent and unrelenting. She had told friends and family in no uncertain terms to get the hell over themselves and be here the next day at noon. She had told them she didn't care how they felt about Rafa's revelation and how hard they believed this was on them. She had told them it wasn't about them and that they weren't the ones going through a hard time. She had been unbelievably successful. And the turnout was quite impressive. 

It seemed Maribel was right and they were all here – friends and family... and Rafa wasn't sure whether to feel happy or apprehensive about that. After all the experiences of the last couple of weeks hadn't exactly left him with a good standing with most of them... And if they were here now, they most definitely knew what he had done... They knew and he had to face them feeling ashamed and miserable and unable to hide the truth from any of them. That he had allowed a moment of pure weakness to dictate his actions and that he couldn't take it back anymore. If they had been disappointed in him before, they had to be even more so now... But still they were here, even if it was just out of pity. And he couldn't very well hide in the car for the rest of the day and wait for them all to leave. Maribel had already gotten out after all and was waiting for him. It seemed the only way to deal with this was to push through...

The house hadn'T been this filled with people since before he had left for the US Open and as Rafa was the sole center of their attention, they all sort of came and looked and quited when he and Maribel entered. Tomeu was there, as was his mother and – to his surprise – so was Carlos. There were other friends and family members too, all of them looking a little nervous but nobody showing any discontent towards him. Not like before. 

His mother was the first to step up to him, her facial expression betraying a mixture of concern and something Rafa was pretty sure was guilt. She didn't actually say anything but opted on pulling him into a tight hug instead. He felt himself stiffen, a reaction he simply had no control over, but if his mother actually noticed, she didn’t let it show. The soft trembling in her voice however betrayed how much emotion she was trying to control.  
   
“My darling boy… We were so worried about you…”  
   
“I’m fine now.”  
   
“Yes, yes of course. But your father and I… we are not. And we don’t deserve to be, do we? We acted appallingly…”

His mother had let go of him, an intense gaze on him that never once wavered. It was the second time today anyone who had acted so awfully around him before, admitted to their mistakes and apologized for it. Having his mother say it, hearing the words out loud actually felt even better than it had when Meri had done it. Of course he had appreciated her apology but with his mother – his parents – it was different. It was more important. He probably should have accepted it as it was but somehow he found it within himself to actually be gracious about it.   
   
“You had a hard time processing. I understand that.”  
   
“You shouldn’t have to. We are your parents. We love you no matter what. Somehow we managed to lose sight of that…”

“You said you were disappointed...”

“I was. We were... I still stand by what I said about you lying to us. I do understand that I have no right to know every last detail of what you do and who you spend your time with. But that is not what I meant. You felt the need to hide this from us in the first place... And that was disappointing.”

There was no venom or vehemence to her voice this time. Just a tiny bit of sadness. Rafa could understand the sentiment but he had never done any of this to hurt his parents. He hadn't done it out of spite or to make them feel bad in any way. It had been a decision born out of fear. But now that his mother had finally chosen to actually talk to him about this, he could tell her, explain his reasoning. 

“I didn't think you'd approve.”

“This is your decision, dear. I don't need to approve. I simply need to accept it.”

“Do you?”

“I do now.”  
   
She smiled a tiny smile, giving him back his exact same words from a couple of weeks back. The silence that followed was a little awkward but it was nothing compared to the weeks of not talking to one another that had preluded today. They were by no means okay or back to normal but just as with Meri earlier today it seemed they had reached an equilibrium from which they would be able to build. It was no surprise his mother tried to do exactly that right here and now. Rafa assumed she had been curious ever since the interview but given how badly their conversation had gone, had never had the chance to actually ask him any of the questions that mattered and have any of her suspicions confirmed. She did it now, but she did it carefully, almost shyly. Still it was hard to talk about this, hard to remember the simple fact that he was no longer in a relationship…  
   
“It’s Mateo, is it not? You were always sort of… special around one another.”  
   
“He’s not.”  
   
“No?”  
   
“Not anymore.”

“Oh...”

His mother sounded truly sorry to hear him say this but there was more to it than that. She wanted to ask, wanted to pry, he could see the curiosity shining in her eyes. But she didn't do it. Instead she took a step closer to him again and this time he didn't feel uncomfortable or shied away from the touch when she pulled him into another gentle hug.

“We love you. And we are proud of you. You know that, don't you?”

Rafa found himself unable to formulate an actual verbal response. He simply nodded, pulling his mother closer, hugging her more tightly. It seemed it was all the answer she had needed. When he let go of her, the smile on her face had brightened and he was sure he was mirroring the gesture. Actually having a smile on his face – a real, bright, genuine smile – had almost become a foreign concept for him. And it felt good. 

#*#  
   
Carlos being there had been the most surprising fact to Rafa because the older man had to have come from the mainland simply to visit him. Given their heated argument after that interview and the fact they had barely talked to one another afterwards it seemed kind of a stretch that Carlos was actually here. Not that Rafa didn't appreciate the show of support. He knew this was his sister's doing and she had to have been very convincing... Still Rafa felt this was a little too much attention and that was the first thing he told the older man when Carlos approached him. As it turned out it hadn't been Maribel's idea to have him here in the first place. Carlos had come up with that all on his own.   
   
“You didn’t have to come.”  
   
“I was already on my way over here. Didn’t get the message until I landed in Palma.”  
   
“Why?”  
   
“Because of my wife. She told me I was being an idiot. She also told me to get my ass into gear, come here and apologize to you in person.”

Rafa couldn't help but smile at the mention of Carlos wife. He could very well imagine that conversation taking place, could imagine the stern look on the older woman's face as she demanded Carlos do as he was told. It had an amusing quality to itself, thinking about it now. But it was also a bit confusing. Because as much as Carlos loved his wife and was inclined to listen to her, Rafa had no idea what would have prompted the woman to send him here.   
   
“Why would she do that?”  
   
“She was curious and a little confused that there hadn’t been any contact, any plans made for the last tournaments of the year. And when she pried I told her… what we fought about. You should have seen her – she was absolutely furious with me… And she pointed out the very obvious fact to me that there are things in my private life you have no clue about either. And that I wasn’t pissed because you lied but because… because…”

Carlos had stopped without ever finishing the sentence and it was clear to see how embarrassed he felt about what he was trying to tell Rafa. It took another deep breath and for Carlos to straighten his posture before he finally managed to get his emotions and his apprehension under control and actually finished the sentence. It was hard to hear but Rafa appreciated the honesty. It had been the one thing that had been sorely lacking from their discussion back in New York.  
   
“Because bias and prejudice is never a problem until you’re actually in the situation… I was… prejudiced.”

Carlos looked very much ashamed and disappointed in himself. Obviously he had taken the time to think about his reaction and he had needed that time to realize he had not been angry but simply hadn't liked the idea of Rafa being gay. Rafa couldn't really blame the older man. After all Carlos had a right to his opinion, even if it was a biased one. He had never taken Carlos for the homophobic kind. In the end he didn't believe that was who Carlos was. But in that heated moment and with the shock of it all, Carlos had resorted to acting on what instinct told him – and that instinct had been wrong...

It was hard to accept and even harder to forgive but throwing away more than 15 years of friendship and camaraderie because of one moment of bad decision making was not something Rafa wanted to do. And apparently neither did Carlos. The one thing Rafa could come up with to diffuse the situation was an attempt to lighten the mood with a – albeit stupid – joke. But it worked. Carlos was smiling at him and he couldn't have shown a nicer and more heartfelt reaction. Words weren't needed. Rafa knew he had the older man back on track, back on his team. And that felt good.   
   
“I won’t try to kiss you or anything, Carlos. You’re not my type.”

#*#  
   
Tomeu had waited for a chance to talk to Rafa alone, obviously not wanting any of the other people around to listen in on the conversation. It had presented itself when Rafa had excused himself to step out onto the terrace for a breath of fresh air and a moment to himself. Tomeu hadn't wanted to pry or to intrude. But he had followed and had left his friend to his own devices, watching him out there on his own, his gaze focused on the sea sight view and simply granting him this moment of peace and quiet. 

He waited a couple of minutes before he was sure that it was okay to approach, clearing his throat in order to make his presence known before he stepped up to Rafa, leaning his arms on the railing of the terrace and standing right next to his friend. The one thing Tomeu wasn't able to do was to actually look at the other man. But he was very much able to apologize.   
   
“You have really bad taste in friends, you know?”  
   
I don’t think so.”  
   
“Yeah, of course you wouldn’t. Somehow you always manage to see the best in people and the worst in yourself. In your little world you probably blame yourself for the fact that I’ve been a homophobic asshole ever since we talked last…”

“I don’t blame you.”  
   
“Well, you should!”

Tomeu hadn't meant to sound so desperate and emotional but he couldn't help it. Admitting to his faults was hard enough but having Rafa simply understand without blaming or judging him was harder. Rafa simply shook his head no again, giving the smallest of smiles to his friend. In the end this wasn't about him and making himself feel better. This was about support for a friend in need. And as it seemed he had achieved that much. There was one last thing he had to tell his friend though and he hoped Rafa would appreciate the gesture just as much. As it turned out, he did. Very much so. 

“I'll be back at the academy next Monday... If you'll have me that is.”

“Of course I do.”

#*#

It had been a heartfelt and very, very soothing afternoon in the presence of family and friends who finally did as they were supposed to – accepting him for who he was and showing their support, without question or conditions. The group of people had cleared out by the early evening and Rafa knew that this time he could be sure they would return – if need be or simply just unannounced, because they wanted to. 

He was left with his sister and another guest that in all the drama and with everything that had happened in the last two days, Rafa had completely forgotten about. Roger had not wanted to be a part of the close circle of family and friends, knowing fully well he would get a chance to talk to Rafa in private later on when the rest of the visiting group had cleared out. He had found the younger man in the kitchen and almost made him jump when he addressed him. Quite obviously Rafa had managed to be completely oblivious to the plans he and Roger had made and of course he also managed to feel guilty about his blatant ignorance immediately.

“Hey there... I didn't want to intrude earlier...”

“Roger... I completely forgot! I'm so sorry...”

“It's okay. I'm glad I'm here. Especially now...“

Roger had stepped closer and they shared a short, almost awkward hug before he took two steps back again. Rafa only now realized that Roger had to have been here since yesterday, since he had been in the hospital... Somehow nobody seemed to have deemed it necessary to inform him about that little but very important fact. He frowned at the older man, trying to find out more details about his arrival and his stay on the island.

“You were here all the time? Mari never said...”

“I asked her not to. You had enough on your mind as it was, I guess.”

“I'm fine.“  
   
„You tried to kill yourself.“

The words were out of Roger's mouth before he had a chance to catch himself. He didn't want to though. He had kept himself in the background, had observed from a distance and from everything he had been able to tell, Rafa's friends and family were tiptoeing around him. They had all come to help, they had all shown sympathy and support but as far as Roger could tell nobody had addressed the matter at hand. 

Maybe it was a bad idea to do it this bluntly. Rafa's doctor had advised against it. But Roger couldn't help it. He wanted to talk about this because he still couldn't wrap his head around it.   
And he wanted an explanation, an assurance that Rafa knew what he had done had been stupid and the wrongest of ways to deal with his misery and loneliness. Above all Roger wanted a promise that Rafa would never attempt to do something as stupid as this ever again. What he did get however, was a look of shock on the younger man's face that he quickly concealed behind a shrug and a display of deflection.   
   
„It was an accident. A mistake. I told the doctor and Mari before.“  
   
„And I don't believe you. Nobody in their right mind takes a handful of painkillers, muscle relaxants and sleeping pills together! You shouldn't even have that stuff!“  
   
„Helps with the pain.“  
   
„Not with this kind of pain!“

Roger hadn't meant to yell but the younger man's inability to simply admit to the facts they all knew to be true was – quite frankly – infuriating. Rafa quite visibly flinched and simply looked at him with that lost expression in his eyes that was painful to even look at. But he didn't say anything, didn't defend himself, didn't explain himself... and Roger simply wasn't having any of that. As much as the doctor had urged them not to push, in his mind there was no doubt whatsoever that this whole awful matter needed to be addressed until Rafa finally spoke – to any of them.   
   
“You’re doing this on purpose... Acting like you don’t understand. Shutting me out like this. Just talk to me! Let me help.”  
   
“I really feel better now. This – what you and Mari did for me – getting my friends and family together, finally having them understand… It helps. A lot.”  
   
“So you won’t do it again?”  
   
“No. Never. It was a stupid thing to do, no?”  
   
“Yes. Very stupid. And desperate… I’m so sorry…”  
   
Somehow the fact that it had been an act of desperation only ever fully sank in for Roger right there and then. He couldn't even imagine how sad and hurt and utterly helpless and alone the younger man must have been feeling to make the decision in the first place. His show of both sympathy and understanding achieved what his emotional display of anger couldn't… Because Rafa actually opened up to him. He didn't look at him though, utterly fascinated by the glass of water he held in his hands.   
   
“I didn’t know where to go…”  
   
“Excuse me?”  
   
“I was up early on Sunday. It was time to go back and… Mari was still in Palma, my parents don’t want me, my family barely talks to me and most of my friends don’t want to spend time with me… I had nowhere to go. And then I thought about the check-up in Barcelona and the physical therapy and the next tournament. Most of my team doesn’t want to be around me right now… I have to do it all by myself. And I don’t want to.   
   
I wanted friends and family. I wanted support. But they don’t want me… And I didn’t know what to do, how to change. I can’t take back what I said, I can’t make them forget… And I can’t change who I am… I didn’t know how. I couldn’t come up with a solution. All I wanted was for everything to go back to normal. To feel like… me again. To have some peace and quiet. To feel safe…  
   
I tried to call Maribel afterwards but I couldn’t reach her. I was probably too far out for cell service. I tried to get back to the bridge to call for help but I never made it that far. I must have passed out then… I don’t remember anything after that. The next thing is the hospital and a doctor telling me to calm down… And then Mari was there.”  
   
Finally Rafa looked at him, realization suddenly dawning in his eyes. He hadn't really thought about it up until now but there had to have been a reason he had ended up in the hospital in time for them to counteract the medication he had taken. He only now registered that it had to have been both Roger's and Maribel's doing when Rafa hadn't shown up for the lunch date he and Roger had agreed on. These two had sprung into action upon realizing he had simply disappeared on them. There was only one way to describe what they had done and it deserved Rafa's gratitude. 

“You saved me... the both of you. Looking for me and making sure I had help?”

“We did.”

“Thank you...”

#*#

They had settled out on the terrace watching the sun set, both of them nursing a drink. Maribel was somewhere about the house and from the sounds of it she was preparing dinner. It was a quiet moment they shared, an almost serene one. But there was a very palpable vulnerability and sadness to the younger man, one Roger couldn't explain. After all this had been the first good turnout with his friends and family for Rafa since he had returned home from the U.S. Maybe he had been staring at the younger man a little to noticeably and with a little too much concern showing in his eyes. Either way Rafa suddenly looked at him, obviously having picked up on bith the scrutiny and the unspoken question about his change of mood. For a long moment he stayed silent before looking away again, focusing his gaze on the sinking sun. His tone of voice was low and full of defeat.   
   
“Mateo. He was not here…He didn’t come…”  
   
“Maribel tried, I think… But he seemed… not interested from what I gathered from her reaction. She yelled. A lot. I think he hung up on her in the end.”  
   
Rafa nodded slowly at the revelation and Roger felt his heart go out to the younger man. While Rafa' s sister had dealt with getting family and friends together, he had found out about Mateo. He had known there was a boyfriend in the mix from the TV interview but he hadn't known that these days he was an ex-boyfriend... Following the angry exchange in a language he hadn't understood had still been uncomfortable and he was absolutely sure Maribel had been throwing profanities around the room after Rafa's ex – Mateo – had hung up on her. He had never seen the younger woman this angry and disconcerted. He was also sure Mateo deserved every last angry word Maribel had said. He himself didn't think too highly of the other man and he felt Rafa should be doing the same.   
   
“Quite frankly if he can’t be bothered to be there for you when you need him and doesn’t even care enough to ask after your health after you spend time in the hospital, he’s not the right guy for you. You deserve better.”  
   
„Then I think I got what I deserved.“

“I’m not sure I understand?”  
   
“Support. Love. Understanding. I didn’t get that before. I felt I deserved it. I also thought I was the only one believing I deserved it. Turns out I was wrong.”

“Yeah… It took us all a little time and the very real fear of losing you, but in the end we realized we were insensitive self absorbed idiots... Hooray for us.”  
   
“Better late than never.”

Rafa had completely ignored Roger's sarcasm and had shrugged, a smile appearing on his face in the process – a real and content one. It was probably the most beautiful thing Roger had ever seen and the thing that managed to make him completely, irrevocably and giddily happy right now. Still a spark of apprehension simply wouldn't go away. But Roger was right at the source to have that feeling quelled. He looked at Rafa intently and waited for the younger man to pick up on it and look at him again before asking him what he needed to know. Rafa in response smiled just a little bit brighter and nodded. 

“Are you really okay?”

“No. But I will be.”

 

-FIN-


End file.
